


Dioscuri

by lalunaticscribe



Series: Folios: Cimitero dei Mostri [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 10th Generation Vongola, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, Box Animals, Cerebus Syndrome, Crossdressing, Deconstruction, Elmo - Freeform, Flame of Night, Flames of the Sky, Forced Crossdressing, Gen, Good!Twinfic, Humor, Multi, Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee, Other, Rule of Funny applies randomly, SCIENCE!!!!!, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Secret Abilities, The development of Box Weapons, Twins, Zero Point Breakthrough, box weapons, parallel worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 53
Words: 267,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3284459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Castor was killed, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together." AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Repoussoir

“Papa, what is this?”

At any other time than in the middle of sealing Tsuna's Flames, Iemitsu would have welcomed the words of the other Sawada son. “Ietsuna, I-”

His throat went dry. “A- Ah-”

“I found this! It makes bang noises and scares chihuahuas away!” Ietsuna chirped. The barrel gleamed in the weak sunlight, and even Don Vongola Nono Timoteo paused, Dying Will Flame gleaming in one hand to watch Sawada Ietsuna hold the gun currently pointed at them.

The old Don's eyes narrowed with unspoken comments about men who regularly left guns around children. “ _Iemitsu_...” his voice was laden with censure.

“Yes,” Iemitsu agreed, his face serious. “Na-kun, put the gun down.”

“What happened to Tsu-kun?” Ietsuna questioned, brown eyes wide in unknowing innocence. The gun wavered, safety off, and Iemitsu could feel the courses on gun safety that Nono was going to put him through. “What is Grandpa doing?”

“We're... we're... carrying him!” Iemitsu smiled brightly.

“Then why is Grandpa's finger on fire?” Ietsuna narrowed his eyes. The trigger clicked tighter. Neither man wanted to use violence on a child, but it was obvious that options were running low at the moment.

“I'm sorry, _bambino_ ,” Timoteo put on his best harmless old man smile. Since it was directed at a five-year-old, it also lacked any killing intent. “Your twin fell asleep. We need to put him on a nap. Would you like a nap as well?”

“You're out to kill Tsuna, aren't you?” Ietsuna stated. “I won't let you. I won't let Papa or Maman.”

“Na-kun!” Iemitsu grew more concerned. “Put it down! This is dangerous! What are you saying?”

“No! You'll kill us! That flame will burn, like that fire-!”

The Dying Will Flame extinguished itself and cold began to form over the life-giving flame, and Timoteo would have interceded if Tsuna was not struggling to wake up. “...no? Nonno?”

“Tsuna!” Timoteo edged to intercede.

“I hate...” was Ietsuna's whisper as the gun began to crack. “I hate... _for him, I hate all of you._ ”

Black fire consumed the gun, causing it to explode and for the kitchen's smoke alarm to ring out loud and clear as the black blaze reigned...

* * *

“The dreams of reasons produces monsters, Tsuna.”

“Huh?” Tsuna commented, lifting his head from where he'd nearly fallen asleep on the kitchen table to stare at his amber-eyed twin. “Sometimes I don't get what you're saying, Ie.”

“Well, I'm sure Satou-sensei doesn't want illustrations to go along with the essay, so you can't let your imagination run fly on wings of fantasy.” Ietsuna replied easily, looking straight into Tsuna's caramel eyes. “Otherwise you'll end up like Mamma...”

“Ah,” Tsuna grabbed an eraser and set about erasing his doodles. “That's true...”

“You can live your entire life bored like you are right now, or you can live it happily,” Sawada Nana was talking in the background, spinning about the kitchen and happy as a clam. “I want you to live feeling 'it's great to be alive!'”

“So, to live happily, I should let my big brother take charge, yes?” Ietsuna asked. “So Tsuna should have gone with Papa.”

“You shouldn't choose to play the little brother at your convenience, Ie,” Tsuna calmly replied. “

“Actually, Mamma don't know which of you is the eldest,” a small pout formed on her lips as Nana waltzed away from the stove bearing toast, eggs and tomatoes with drinks. “There was a fire in the hospital records room on the day of your birth, and then when everything was done, even I forgot! So until we figure that out, none of you can go with Papa to become a star.”

“Who would choose to become a star, Mamma? Thanks, _itadakimasu_.” Tsuna questioned, packing away the cleaned essay to scarf down breakfast freshly served by Nana. “If Dad is going to take one of us with him, it'll probably be Ie. He's better academically and at sports.”

“No way,” Ietsuna retorted, grabbing his own plate. “As long as this bond* between us remains, we're not separating. _Itadakimasu_.”

“Na-kun, this dependence on Tsu-kun can be unhealthy!” Nana admonished. “The two of you may be twins, but you're too dependent on him to be a good big brother!”

“Tsuna's my big brother!” Ietsuna shot back.

“Don't arbitrarily change your family position!” Tsuna sighed, standing up to clear the emptied plates. “Mamma, today the both of us have to stay back because Ie managed to anger Hibari-san, so we're doing extra.”

“I just don't want to wear the band on my left arm!” Ietsuna rebutted, resolutely pinning a red armband on his right sleeve to show the Kanji very clearly.

“Hibari-san said that I'm the only one who can wear it on my left arm!” Tsuna protested, pinning his own armband on his left arm. “To start with, you picked a fight with him and dragged me into this! Don't anger him even more, Ie!”

“I'm sure the flower of the Disciplinary Committee would manage to convince him,” Ietsuna replied and dodged the slap sent his way, but not the bag bonked onto his brown hair.

“T- That was one time!” Tsuna was puffed up in righteous indignation. “I- It was for the Home Economics Club and Kyoko-chan!”

“...Kusakabe-fukuiinchou took the picture and blew it up, Hibari-san bit half the squads to death, and confiscated the rest of them, and the recruitment poster for the Disciplinary Committee is still being requested for at the door first thing,” Ietsuna counted off. “We might share the same looks, but it's not everyday that local demon makes a rule that the Disciplinary Committee general affairs manager must wear his armband on his left arm instead of his right, just to keep him out of fights. Teachers want you in their class as a protective talisman against Hibari.”

“Why is it that, when you say that, it sounds like I'm keeping evil spirits gone?” Tsuna complained, never noticing Ietsuna slowing behind him.

Pensively, amber eyes considered the ground, up to the blue skies above their sleepy town of Namimori, to the whitewashed walls of their suburb and the neatly kept houses and roads laid out in grids and squares. This was the fourteenth year of their daily lives; laid out within the town, unheeded by time or space or distance. One might call it a peaceful fate.

“It's great to be alive...? I don't understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is a pun based on Ietsuna (家綱) and Tsunayoshi (綱吉), which share the Kanji for 'join'. Following the Tokugawa theme of the Sawada guys, Ietsuna is actually Iemitsu's father, and thus the original Tsuna's grandfather. It's highly possible to name kids after dead relatives, after all, and it's also convenient.


	2. Folio 1: Imprimatura

Given the speed of creation and destruction that met Namimori's infrastructure each day on top of the usually expected usage of roads, construction companies around the town had one gold standard. That standard was currently being sorely tested by one end of a collapsible steel tonfa into the nearest wall.

“There goes the morning's peace...” Tsuna glared at Ietsuna, never mind that he was on the receiving end of one glare from the Disciplinary Committee Chairperson himself. “You provoked him.”

“Explain your choice of attire.”

“Good morning to you too, Buchou. Which of us is the real Tsuna?” Amber eyes flashed in challenge. “You can tell us apart with those carnivore eyes of yours, right?”

Cue barely dodged tonfa swipe. “I mandated the armband placement for a reason: to not get confused between the little animal and the insect.”

“Why does he get 'little animal' and I get 'insect'?” Ietsuna complained, lashing out towards Hibari's still outstretched arm and getting the other tonfa to his ribs for the trouble.

“Ah, Hibari-san...” Tsuna was about to intervene as Ietsuna winced and punched Hibari on the left arm.

“Oh, Sawada!” the strident voice of Kusakabe Tetsuya made itself heard. “Just nice, the both of you found Kyo-san. We got another hit!”

Tonfas withdrawn, Hibari accepted the proffered poster from a deeply bowing Kusakabe with a “Hn.”

He eyed it. Grey eyes slid sideways to glance towards Tsuna, who meeped and hid behind Ietsuna. A swish of gakuran sleeves showed, that the Demon was retreating back into the tower of Namimori Middle School.

“Finally,” the Vice-chair sighed, hands rested on his knees. “Who knew that our accidental 'public indecency' can pacify Kyo-san that much... good work for distracting Hibari-buchou, both Sawada-san and Ietsuna-san!”

“Well, it's my fault that Art Club got subsumed under the Disciplinary Committee in the first place,” Ietsuna gave a weak chuckle. “Who would have known that pictures of Tsuna as our mascot would increase recruitment so much, and piss off Hibari-san...”

“It's not funny, Ie!” Tsuna snapped. “I- It's me!”

Amber eyes regarded him. “...yes, it is.”

“I- I- In... a...!”

“A very nice monochrome sailor uniform paired with Grade D _zettai ryouiki_ of black socks and brogues,” Ietsuna described the very clothes of the photographed mascot while smiling. “I have good taste, and you has good dress sense. We're unstoppable as brothers in terms of art and design.”

“Thank you very much, Tsuna-san!” Kusakabe bowed to the other twin, the better to hide a luminous blush.

“ _Kusakabe_...!” the roar of Hibari's bear-like possessiveness resounded in the air just as the half-hour bell rang.

“...and now Buchou will certainly bite you to death,” Ietsuna continued in the face of Kusakabe's ashen expression. “It's been nice knowing you, _Fuku_ - _buchou_.”

“Tsuna-san, please save me...”

“Today is rabbit ears,” Ietsuna commented. “We'll be counting on you again, Tsuna~”

Tsuna bristled – much like a bunny, so the two boys considered – and started: “I'm not cross-dressing again for Art Club...”

Stare...

“I'm serious...” He was fidgeting.

Stare...

“...even if it'll save Kusakabe-san from being bitten to death...” A frown marred his face, eyes widening in nervousness and shuddering.

Stare...

“...Hibari-san needs his tea.”

Both twin and Vice-chair flinched at the thought of a Hibari deprived of what separated the self-proclaimed carnivore from becoming a mindless beast. Part of it was protectiveness for small animals. Another was protectiveness for cute things that tried so hard and were unfortunately bullied without help and had rather unusually _laissez_ - _faire_ parents... and caffeine.

Once, in the great rumour mill of Namimori Middle, they said that Sawada Tsunayoshi was actually a _zashiki warashi_ of the school, meant to protect its students from the Demon of Namimori. That belief had reached its peak when producing the infamous 'public indecency' poster that had earned Sawada Ietsuna a true beating earned a day with Hibari more inclined to ignore every herbivore in the greater Namimori area for up to six hours. Until the posters were – very reluctantly – burnt or shredded. News that the Art Club had been forcibly annexed into the Disciplinary Committee did not help abate them.

“Ah, we should go in,” Tsuna commented. “I feel like... something might happen...”

In the demon's den, the roar of Hibari realising that the reception room was out of tea leaves echoed... well, not so much a roar, than a malevolent aura preceded with looming clouds.

“Yeah, it's already happened,” Ietsuna spoke sadly.

* * *

Twins presented a unique inheritance problem, whether it be for political, financial or plutocratic power. Twins without confirmation of seniority presented an even greater challenge. Likewise, no context could present more of an obstacle to twins inheriting without partible inheritance than Cosa Nostra.

Reborn curled his left sideburn, still pondering the unique problem. On top of fishing out the Decimo, there had been a hit ordered for the other twin. The root of the problem went back to over a decade previously, when Nono and Iemitsu had found themselves back in Palermo following a blast of black flame. An infamous black flame. A flame that could only be born from hate and despair...

_I can't tell which of my sons is he,_ the CEDEF leader had despaired, and had been about to give the hit when the mess with Massimo and Frederico had started and when the dust had settled, Vongola had been short on all heirs, and was about to lose another potential one. _They keep changing their names and personalities..._

Judging from the accounts given by the blond _idiota_ and Nono, they had had no chance to seal Tsuna's Dying Will Flame in his youth. The Flame had somehow hidden itself during Iemitsu's subsequent visits. It was almost terrifying, the thought of igniting such potential without any restraints. Like dumping extra sugar into a flour warehouse before throwing in a match. The other...

“Ah, we should go in,” Tsuna commented. “I feel like... something might happen...”

In the demon's den, the roar of Hibari realising that the reception room was out of tea leaves echoed... well, not so much a roar, than a malevolent aura preceded with looming clouds.

“Yeah, it's already happened,” Ietsuna spoke sadly.

Reborn could hardly shake the feeling that they were onto him. Even if the laments of the regent-hairstyle Disciplinary Committee Vice-chair were echoing like funerary wails.

“Hibari-san biting people to death, chance at zero,” Ietsuna quipped as he walked in after his twin. “Having any more of those posters float around would inspire feelings of great guilt in wrong-doers and possibly the whole of Namimori, driving down Hibari's biting quota. Hence, publicly indecent.”

Assessment target(s): the twins Sawada: Ietsuna and Tsunayoshi. No clear hierarchy or which was older – which would have simplified so many things, damn the hospital fire that destroyed the records and messed everything up – and both presumably with their own talents. One was a potential student, one was a potential target, and being identical twins could mean that they could probably switch identities at the drop of a hat.

Reborn grimaced, holding up a glossy recruitment poster for the Namimori Middle School Disciplinary Committee. Its subject, a girl, wore a very nice monochrome sailor uniform paired with knee-high black socks and brogues. She stoodstraight, shoulders thrown back and collar slightly loose to show a peek of collarbone.The red armband of the Disciplinary Committee was the only splash of colour in the otherwise saturated picture, aside from the spark of gold within the subject's eyes. With both hands clasped almost in prayer, the girl was smiling, welcoming-

- or, it would be a girl, if it weren't clear that the subject was Sawada Tsunayoshi.

“Crossdressing is not an activity beneficial to the Vongola Tenth,” Reborn said to nothing in particular. His beady eyes, however, did not leave the beatific visage. One of them was clearly talented in art, at least.

The poster crinkled, and Reborn scowled, Leon shifting into a folder at his bidding. The small poster was tucked away safely, hidden until it could be laminated and framed. The slogan 'Join us in Defending the Peace of Namimori' could be cropped out; the tranquil countenance of Namimori's Madonna *, however temporary, was worthy of that small reminder.

_You know what to do._

Twins were problematic; like the legend of the founding of _Roma_ **, only one twin could rule in the end.

* * *

“Can I have my hand back?”

“No.”

“Why is Ie always drawing my hands?” Tsuna commented in the middle of free period, which he was spending on checking the DC budgets, and Ietsuna was spending on sketching two different hands.

“Because your tiny hands are a challenge to sketch,” Ietsuna replied without missing a beat. “Like Yamamoto's hands too.”

The owner of the other hand chuckled. “Well, as long as you like to draw, Ie. You're so dedicated, I remember that one time you left Tsuna hanging off my arm just to get a sketch of a monkey hanging off the school roof.”

“You're still sore about that, Yamamoto?” Ietsuna's smile was brittle. “Wonder which idiot was joking about jumping off the roof if it wasn't for Tsuna. I didn't even get a good sketch.”

“Sorry,” Tsuna mumbled to Yamamoto. “Ie is... a bit sensitive to these things.”

“Right,” Ietsuna huffed, blowing aside some rubbers from his sketchpad before arranging the fingers of the hands to almost touch. “Lucky we have such contrast.”

“Contrast?” Yamamoto asked.

“Tsuna's hands are soft and white like a girl's, and Yamamoto's are baked black in the sun from bare-handed batting practice,” Ietsuna noted. “It's not the high contrast of _chiaroscuro ***_ , but it's good enough for practice. One white... one black... say, thanks for lending me your hands.”

Yamamoto smiled, as cold as a freezing downpour. “'Course.”

Tsuna's lips pressed together nervously, and they said nothing.

The school day ended with marginally less people bitten to death and Yamamoto with a bit of art knowledge that would probably be forgotten the next time Ietsuna borrowed his hands as a model again.

“Hibari really trusts you with the work,” Ietsuna remarked on the way back to the Sawada house.

“You challenged the guy to start with!” Tsuna shot back, but nodded as he walked next to Ietsuna. “I... I have no idea why I'm the general affairs manager, but... somehow... your Art Club got subsumed into the Disciplinary Committee because of that picture, sorry, Ie...”

“I know,” Ietsuna replied simply. “Everything went according to my calculations. Well, most of it...”

“...eh?”

“The Disciplinary Committee eats up most of the extracurricular budget, so the annexation just means that I get more funds, especially since we're a failing club,” Ietsuna remarked. “Plus, you can't buy publicity like the Disciplinary Committee's Skylark-repelling posters. Now that I think about it, it's like a protection racket using a human shield against Namimori's Demon for funds.”

“The moment I think that all is right with the world, you open your mouth to say these things...” Tsuna griped. “Then you want to play the twin game even though Hibari-san can tell us apart in a split second and you still anger him every morning...”

The bell was ringing, and the boys shifting back to their places for class with mumbled words. Class blended together into so many teachers and Nezu-sensei being talked into circles by Ietsuna until the end-of-school bell tolled his salvation. Only Tsuna's intervention left the teacher with any semblance of pride left.

“Hibari's always busy,” Ietsuna commented at the end of school hours once they neared the gate. “I'm going to get a complex at this rate if you keep mentioning him.”

“Eh??” Tsuna nearly jumped. “No way! You're my only brother, Ie! That's why I even gave him your last copy of... _that poster_...”

“Yeah. That's why I'm going to have a complex over _Hibari,_ ” Ietsuna snorted. “Over how long until he figures out it's just you in a dress. You didn't have to intervene for that rat ****.”

“Then...” Tsuna pondered. “Yamamoto-kun is going to bring the team to the nationals, right?”

“That'll be nice,” Ietsuna commented. “I'm sure Yamamoto would at least try his best.”

“Well...” Tsuna frowned as Ietsuna started to strip off his shoes. “What do you mean? It's his dream to play in the nationals.”

“If there are too many lights, sometimes you can't see past the false darkness.” Ietsuna shrugged as the two of them entered the house. “We're back!”

“Today there wasn't extra work!” Tsuna added.

“Oh, Tsu-kun, Na-kun, welcome back!” Sawada Nana beamed at her boys from the kitchen, somehow cooking up a storm. “Papa called and he's coming back!”

Silence fell, and Tsuna was the first to react. “Eh??!”

“He found a phone?” Ietsuna commented. “I'm surprised. After all, it's not like being able to call, buy a mobile phone, or even send a text message is cost-prohibitive for him.”

“I wouldn't be able to tell Na-kun from Tsu-kun if he didn't speak,” Nana continued smiling. “Anyway, your papa is worried about your grades. Mama doesn't worry about that sort of thing, but Papa sounds like he's hiring a home tutor for the both of you.”

“D- Dad?” Tsuna bore a shocked expression. “H- He's finally been found?!”

“When did he pay this home tutor?” Ietsuna asked, staring at his mother. “If it's still the cooling-off period, we can still return the service and get a full refund, right? A dead man can't possibly pay for so much stuff.”

“Oh, Na-kun, Tsu-kun...” Nana giggled. “I've kept in touch with him all this time. Then who do you think gets all the funding for your school and food?”

“Welfare payouts/Dad's savings,” was their immediate reply.

“Raising two boys at the same time takes more than that, you know!” Nana admonished. “Anyway, look at this flyer he sent over! 'Will raise your children to be the leaders of the new generation. Grade and subject don't matter.' Isn't it great? I've never seen a promotion like it.”

“Erm, Kaa-san,” Tsuna fidgeted. “We really don't need a tutor... in fact, why don't you do as Ie suggests, and get a refund for the cooling-off period?”

“But there's no money,” Nana added. “As long as they have a place to sleep and meals, they'll teach twenty-four hours for free! And they're young and good-looking!”

“Just for that reason?!” Tsuna was about to continue when Ietsuna yawned.

“Well,” Ietsuna clicked his tongue, “it's not like they're-”

“Ciaossu!”

“...already here.” Lacing his fingers together, Ietsuna studied the fedora-wearing baby in a suit standing on the coffee table, who had just popped out of thin air. “Sure, he's young... sure, he's good-looking in the sense of literally being baby-faced and being smartly dressed... and I feel like I should be giving a more extreme reaction to this.”

“Obviously!” Tsuna did a _tsukkomi_. “To start with, who is this baby?! Where did he come from?! Is he lost!?”

“Missing children cases are handled by the police, Tsuna, much as our Namimori Middle School is a miniature government on its own,” Ietsuna replied.

“I'm the home tutor, Reborn!” the baby offered his name-card.

“Home tutor?” Nana faintly echoed.

“Oh, just that,” Ietsuna dryly commented. “I thought for a moment that he cheated on Kaa-san and that now we have half-siblings.”

Nana's knife clattered from her hand and onto the floor, followed very quickly by its wielder.

* * *

“I'm sorry,” Tsuna told Reborn as the tutor perched atop his head. “Ie is always... with that sense of humour.”

The dark one, as Reborn nicknamed Ietsuna, was carrying Nana up to her shared room with their father – occupied fully for only twenty days in the fourteen years that the Sawada family had held the property – after putting the knife away. No matter what, even if the crude twin had nearly derailed all his plans by calling for a refund via cooling-off period and nearly discovering the ruse, Reborn still planned to shoot him first chance he got. “That's alright.”

“Reborn, was it? I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi. He's my brother*****, Sawada Ietsuna”

“You must have it hard with your little brother.” Reborn nodded. Iemitsu really had a lot to answer for, if the younger could come up with such a horrible idea. Like Reborn would even come close to that gene pool. It produced the dark one, after all. Well, at least this bloodline still had some hope, if one twin was nice and the other twin was rational, at least.

“We're twins,” Tsuna corrected. “There was a fire at the hospital, and at the end the order of our birth was lost, so there's no older or younger between us.”

“I see.”

“We share a sleeping room, if you don't mind,” Tsuna commented. “The other room was supposed to be for Ie, but his atelier takes up so much space that we converted it into a study instead.”

“Your brother is an artist?” Reborn remarked, thinking of all the possibilities as they entered the bedroom. True to form, it contained cabinets and a chest of drawers on either side, along with two single-person beds on both sides of the room, both facing the window.

“Yes. He's fairly good, especially with paint,” Tsuna agreed. “He's also good at photography.”

“But he's part of the Disciplinary Committee, right?” Reborn commented. “You too.”

“ _Hiiee_! Why do you know that?!” Reborn jumped off the rather soft bunch of brown hair.

“Gathering information is a basic skill, Dame-Tsuna.” Almost as soon as the last insult left Reborn's mouth, there was a spike of killing intent from somewhere, and the hitman moved to avoid being struck. A palette knife waved, its blade stuck into the carpet over the spot the baby hitman had been standing on recently.

Amber eyes narrowed, Ietsuna let the bedroom door close behind him until it clicked shut, and then crossed his arms to glare mutinously. _Brother complex?_ Reborn pondered. Sure looked like it; a palette knife with its soft tip and design was not conducive for knife-throwing.

“Ie, violence is prohibited,” Tsuna commanded. The other bristled, before relenting.

“So, what shall we do, Tsuna?” Ietsuna slumped onto the left bed, crossing his legs to stare at Reborn. Tsuna also took a seat on the right side of the bed.

Facing both amber and caramel eyes in the light of the fast-setting sun, it was almost possible to see the visage of the Vongola Primo mirrored in each other, or possibly one student and one copy...

“I'm a hitman,” Reborn started his introduction to eerie, subjective silence. Like he was the one being judged instead of these twins. “I was assigned by the Vongola Family's 9th generation boss to come to Japan and raise you to become a Mafia boss. The Ninth is getting old and was planning to pass the Boss status to the Tenth Generation. But the most qualified of the Tenth Generation, Enrico, was shot in a feud; the number two, Massimo, was drowned; and the favourite, Federico, was found reduced to bone. So the only candidates left are the both of you.”

“W- Why?!” Tsuna burst out.

“The Vongola's First Boss retired early and crossed to Japan,” Reborn piped up. “That's your great-great-great grandfather, and so the two of you are part of the Vongola bloodline and legitimate Boss candidates.”

“Hiiee!” Tsuna started. “That's... that's... impossible for us!”

“First time I've seen a crime family inherited through blood,” Ietsuna commented flatly at the crudely drawn family tree Reborn held up. “One question: if we're Boss candidates because of our blood, then our... father... is also part of this bloodline from...” he glanced down, “...Ieyasu-jiisama, right? He's still alive, and he's not a minor, unlike us.”

“The two of you have no choice,” Reborn replied, a touch sadly despite the unwavering plasticity of his features. “Because you are twins, one day you might have to fight each other for the seat of Boss, and... well, I'll be training you until then.”

“What do you mean...?” Tsuna worried his bottom lip. “How did we end up like this? I- I-”

“...Why don't we have a choice?” Ietsuna frowned.

“Because of your blood,” Reborn simply replied. “It's Mafia blood.”

“That's a fallacious statement,” Ietsuna reasoned, calm and cool, almost like a portrait of the Vongola Primo dated to around the _belle époque_ era that hung somewhere in a mansion in Palermo. “It implies that all of our bloodline are fated to become involved in the Mafia, presumably Sicilian. That can't be true, since we have our ancestors that also descended from this first Boss, and they all lived and died here. Furthermore, doesn't it make more sense to pursue the _only_ adult amongst the known candidates? Why us? And then, why make us fight?”

“To prevent a succession dispute later,” Reborn replied, adding before Ietsuna could continue arguing, “Your father is the external adviser of the Family, so he can't be Boss.”

“I...” Tsuna spoke up, staring at Reborn. “Erm... can we have some time?”

Reborn nodded to both twins and hopped out, listening to Nana's harsh scolding of Iemitsu and 'Reborn-chan' and cheating, and pondering.

_Kill the spare,_ Iemitsu had said in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. _That's no son of mine._

One problem; Reborn realised it too late, was that he had no idea which was the spare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Madonna: referring to the Italian motif of the Virgin Mary in painting and sculpture. Reborn would definitely be familiar with representations of the Madonna, since they're all over the place in classical and Renaissance art.
> 
> **Rome's founding legend: semi-divine twins Romulus and Remus, the latter of which was killed by his own brother when they argued over how to name the city they founded together.
> 
> *** Chiaroscuro (English pronunciation: /kiˌɑːrəˈskjʊəroʊ/; Italian: [kjarosˈkuːro]; Italian for light-dark) in art is the use of strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition. It is also a technical term used by artists and art historians for the use of contrasts of light to achieve a sense of volume in modelling three-dimensional objects and figures. - Wikipedia
> 
> **** Nezumi= rat
> 
> ***** 兄弟, the neutral word for brothers, as opposed to 兄 or 弟 which denote an order of birth.


	3. Folio 2: Giornata

Iemitsu found himself greeted by his wife and a knife, and then Reborn with guns akimbo. Dinner was barely eaten in the middle of surviving, and then now, in the early morning, he'd barged into the twins' shared room only to find them missing.

Snot-bubble popping, Reborn yawned at him from a sitting position. “They'll need some time to get over the ignorance you've put them in, _idiota_. Don't bother them.”

Iemitsu had gone downstairs to the sight of his wife frying sausages, and promptly burst into tears.

“Darling, my little tuna-fishes are avoiding me!”

Nana patted his shoulder consolingly. “Don't worry, dear. I'm sure Tsu-kun and Na-kun miss you in their hearts. They just... don't know how to reach out to you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes,” Nana smiled. “Besides, today is Tuesday, so they're surely at school for their club.”

“Their club?” Iemitsu echoed blankly. “Ah, right, Na- Ietsuna is in the Art Club. So... only Tsuna is avoiding me?!”

“Actually, Na-kun and Tsu-kun joined the Disciplinary Committee,” Nana intervened before her husband could burst into tears once more. “Their chairman came to our house to explain matters. It seems like they need our sons for a... design overhaul? I wasn't actually sure about the details...”

From a certain point of view, everything she said was true.

* * *

“Mafia babies,” Ietsuna was still muttering to himself. “Why babies? It sounds like a bad set-up for a magical girl animé.”

“Is that so?” Tsuna scribbled down a few figures and squinted, yawning. “Ah, Hibari-san's going to push all the balance into the Disciplinary Committee. I'm going in later.”

“Leave them,” Ietsuna waved. “It's not worth your intervention. Were you disturbed last night?”

“There was a series of explosions,” Tsuna agreed. “Do you think it's Nakamura-san from down the road?”

“...probably,” Ietsuna nodded. “...Are you intending to go home later?”

“I... I don't feel like facing Dad right now,” Tsuna confessed.

“I just know that if I face him, I'll probably punch him in the face,” Ietsuna admitted, turning his head. “So... Hibari-buchou, we need a place to stay for the night~”

Having only just swept into the Reception Room in a swirl of black sleeves, Hibari snorted. “The little animal can stay here to continue his work. You may find your own place.”

“Eh? That's unfair!”

“There is nothing fair about you joining the Disciplinary Committee,” Hibari snapped back. “It must be fate that I have found you here. I'll bite you to death.”

“Please don't do it here,” Tsuna intervened with a steaming handle-less _kintsug_ _i_ cup, which Hibari hid his tonfas to accept quickly. “Welcome back, Hibari-san. I hope that the... hunt went well today.”

“Mmm...” Hibari paused. “Not the usual black tea.”

“Today is summer, so...” Tsuna fidgeted. “I thought hot _mugi-cha*_ might be more cooling, because Hibari-san does a lot of physical work...”

“...continue with your attentiveness, little animal,” Hibari swept towards his desk with only a stray swipe towards Ietsuna.

“Why don't I get barley tea?” Ietsuna complained. “Tsuna, you dote on Hibari-san too much!”

“Sorry, Ie, but I know who's the bigger predator here.”

“Hn,” came the answering reply from the desk. “You're on patrol rotation until classes start, Sawada Ietsuna.”

“Right,” Ietsuna stood up. “Let's go, Tsuna.”

“The little animal will be helping me with this herbivorous organisation,” Hibari stated flatly.

Ietsuna reached down. “I'm going to-”

“Violence is prohibited, Ie,” Tsuna pouted. “If the two of you fight here and destroy my work... I'll... I'll...”

Hibari smirked at the bristling little animal who was trying to grow up.

“... I'll feed the both of you tea dust for a month!”

The smirk disappeared. “What did you _say_ , little animal?”

“H- Hiiee...” Tsuna swallowed. “I'll... I'll... tea dust... I...”

“That's... not very effective,” Ietsuna pitiably told his twin.

“...Hn,” Hibari turned away. “Get lost, Sawada Ietsuna. Little animal, I need the reports for the last two weeks. And, a refill of the barley tea.”

“And I'll be off,” Ietsuna scoffed. “Tsuna, don't get too cosy with that big-teethed carnivore, Mum wants grandchildren!”

“D- Don't imply that of Hibari-san!” Tsuna yelled as the twin ran off. “Sorry, Hibari-san, Ie likes to make these sorts of jokes...”

“It is understandable,” Hibari acknowledged. “Older brothers must look out for the younger ones.”

“...Hibari-san, we're twins...”

“So...” The black-haired prefect drawled.

“No, Hibari-san, I will not poison Ie,” Tsuna smiled as the plastic tray he had been holding blocked a tonfa. “He's an able partner for sparring, or so you decided that day, right?”

Hibari drew the tonfa back. “If that tray breaks, Kusakabe will be sad.”

“It's your fault, Hibari-san!” Both halves collided with the floor. “ _Hiiee_! What do I tell Kusakabe-san?!”

“That I'm bored, and the tray is a casualty,” Hibari drawled. “Entertain me, little animal.”

“I'm not a performing animal!” Tsuna dodged the tonfa to the ribs and skidded back, loosening his tie. “Are you hunting _me_ now that Ie isn't here?! Being headstrong has a limit too, Hibari-san!”

“Hn.”

A green slipper flew in from the open window and smacked the chairman, sending black locks flying. Hibari's back straightened, thunderous as he made for the open window and leapt down towards the amber-eyed prefect. “I'll bite you to death.”

One leg lifted to block the oncoming tonfa in a side kick turned hook kick, and rubber soles dug into the sandy as Ietsuna grinned. “As you wish, Hibari-buchou~”

“Ah...” Tsuna closed his mouth, sat back down, and kept scribbling until the bell rang. He then packed up and walked to class, most students giving him a wide berth at the sight of the Disciplinary band on his left arm. The bullies had especially given a wide berth the first time Kusakabe's personal squad turned up.

“It seems like you've settled quite nicely here.”

“Reborn-san?” Tsuna cocked his head towards the baby disguised as a hydrangea. “What are you doing?”

“As your tutor, it is my duty to observe your school life,” Reborn admitted.

“Well... try not to disturb the peace,” Tsuna paused. “Have you spoken with Dad?”

“Your idiot father was supposed to explain it to the two of you, but it looks like you'll be out to avoid him,” Reborn observed. “This fate cannot be avoided.”

“...I see,” Tsuna pensively reflected. “If you'll excuse me, Reborn-san, I'm late for class.”

“You crossdressed for promoting the Disciplinary Committee before, yes?” Reborn teased, or tried to.

“Well, if it can give everyone a bit of joy, I don't mind,” Tsuna pondered. “Men are all unreliable, after all.”

As Tsuna left, Reborn hefted Leon, who had turned into a green and black sniper rifle. Iemitsu had a lot to be responsible for Tsuna's attitude towards the male gender on a whole, but that could be solved well enough. Now was the other twin's surprisingly competent fight against Hibari, who was tremendously skilled for a civilian.

Ietsuna's head snapped back and he scowled, spitting out a bullet. “What the-?”

The bullet fell to the ground as Hibari launched an assault that prompted a boxing straight and scissor kick to defend against. Reborn, though, frowned as the Dying Will Bullet failed to take effect, loading another bullet to shoot.

Ietsuna struggled with a handstand and flipped away from Hibari, shaking his head as he spat out another bullet. “Is this a bullet?”

In response, Reborn shot him again.

“Oi!” Amber eyes turned in his direction as Ietsuna grimaced. “What are you doing?”

Reborn stared at the frozen bullets in his palm. Ietsuna looked down to the palm, and then at Reborn. Honest confusion was writ large on his face. Ietsuna barely noted the bell going off until Hibari's tonfa descended onto his skull with a kiss of steel.

“Ow!”

“After lunch, the roof,” Hibari challenged. “I'll bite you all the way to death.”

“If I'm dead, I'll haunt you! There's no way I'll let you near Tsuna!” Ietsuna shot back, running off with the bullets, and leaving Reborn to ponder that one of the Sawada twins was immune to Vongola's Dying Will Bullet.

The evidence... Reborn would have to get the bullets back, though. Well, the candidature was clear; that is, _if_ the other twin was able to use the Dying Will...

* * *

The red pellets bounced in his palm, half-frozen like dry ice as Ietsuna slumped on the roof. “Bullets...?”

“Bullets?” Tsuna paused, handing Ietsuna one of the three _bento_ boxes next to him. “This is Japan, right...?”

“It's special,” Ietsuna barely turned his head to watch Reborn. “That's the Vongola Family's special Dying Will Bullet. Usually, a person who is shot with this bullet will resurrect with the Dying Will after dying. Your Dying Will is based on what you're regretting as you die. I say usually, idiot-Ie, but you showed nothing after being shot three times with the bullet.”

“It's your fault!” Ietsuna pouted. “What does Dying Will even mean anyway?”

“Dying Will is a state wherein all safety switches are off,” Reborn explained. “So in exchange for risking your life by breaking your limits, you can harness amazing strength.”

“But it doesn't work on me?” Ietsuna echoed. “What does that mean?”

Reborn remained silent.

“I see,” Ietsuna looked satisfied, amber eyes glittering as he turned back to lunch. “Until you resolve this problem, you can't risk our lives with that bullet. Means that you can't shoot Tsuna.”

“I'm an assassin,” Reborn stated as Leon transformed into a gun. “We might share a relationship as teacher and students, but we also share the relations of hitman and targets. The sooner you realise that your lives can be snuffed out by me, the sooner you can accept your fates and let me find the next candidate.”

Ietsuna smiled, and somehow he ended up in front of Reborn, hand laid directly over the yellow pacifier. The baby hitman eyed him, beady eyes flicking down to the pacifier before glaring at Ietsuna.

The Sawada twin flipped back to his bento, smiling. “We'll keep that in mind... Reborn.”

Pacifier dangling with a cold weight, the assassin eyed Ietsuna and Leon shuddered. The smiling amber eyes were colder than winter, it seemed, especially as it proved that one of the twins had no compunctions and a definite ability to instantly terminate anything using Flames. A walking plague of cold...

...which was accepting another _kaarage_ from Tsuna, smiling a genuine smile.

* * *

“Ietsuna can't use the Dying Will Flame,” Reborn started without even a greeting. Namimori's sun was hanging low in the sky, and it was a sweltering late afternoon tempered only by cool summer breezes that wafted through the town from the oncoming monsoon rains. The yellow pacifier was held by Leon, the chameleon shivering from its proximity to the cooled pacifier.

“...that can't be right,” Iemitsu frowned. “Nono and I were about to seal Tsuna's Flames, but Ietsuna barged in on us with a spare gun... and then he used black Flames that sent us to Italy.”

“Black Flames?” Reborn echoed. “What colour of Dying Will is that? How did a toddler get a gun? Iemitsu-”

“Yes, that is the question,” Iemitsu admitted. “I got the lecture on firearms safety from Nono already.”

“Did you know that your son can freeze Dying Will Flames?” Reborn abandoned the subject of firearms safety with a frown on his baby features, sideburns made even more prominent.

“He is?” The blond External Advisor started.

“The Dying Will Bullets froze on contact,” Reborn confirmed. “Rather than say that he is immune... I would say that Ietsuna neutralises all Dying Will Flames near him with Vongola Primo's Zero Point Breakthrough.”

“How do you know?” Iemitsu demanded.

In answer, Reborn produced the three bullets stolen from Ietsuna. They were cold and heavy in his palm, and Iemitsu hissed as they contacted his skin on the handover.

“Yes...”

“However, he is _only_ capable of that technique,” Reborn considered. “If you have changed your mind, Ietsuna would be a rather powerful anti-Mafia fighter.”

“Only against Flame-users,” Iemitsu pointed out. “I see your point, but Ietsuna is too dangerous to exist. We'll have to use a non-Flame method. Do you... already have something arranged?”

“Yes,” a shadow from his fedora hid Reborn's eyes. “Another hitman from Italy.”

“Mmm,” Iemitsu agreed. “All in a day's work. Anything else?”

“Well, both of them can take care of themselves in a fight,” Reborn admitted. “And they're in the Disciplinary Committee under a powerful fighter.”

“If you say so, the boy must be ridiculously strong,” Iemitsu chuckled. “I wish I could be- Reborn?”

Reborn had disappeared.

“That baby...”

* * *

The children were back before Iemitsu, as the chain-bolt proved. Iemitsu rang the bell, and amber eyes greeted him with a severe expression.

“Yo,” Ietsuna stated.

“Don't be so cold, Na-kun!” Iemitsu chuckled. “A- Anyway, hurry up and open the door. It's almost dinnertime, and I can't wait to taste Nana's home cooking!”

“So, how old am I?” Ietsuna questioned.

“You're thirteen!”

“And how old is Tsuna?”

“Thirteen- oi, you're twins!” Iemitsu yelled.

“And when is my birthday?”

“It's in July!” Iemitsu declared.

At which he received a slammed door. “Wait, Na-kun!”

“Stupid old man forgot our birthdays,” Ietsuna picked up the paint-spattered palette and continued to the rhythm of Iemitsu dancing the hemp fandango on his parenthood. “Tsuna, straighten your legs.”

“That's a bit mean, Ie,” Tsuna frowned, posing on his back on the living room couch. “He's still our father.”

“He missed our birthday by five months.”

Tsuna folded his legs, getting up. “Well, I'll be opening the door. You can sit there and wait.”

Ietsuna scowled, but waited as the door was unbolted and opened, and Iemitsu squealed to his 'cute son' about the 'mean and cruel' twin.

“I doubt I'm cruel enough, old man,” Ietsuna shot back, studying the wet palette he was using.

“You're an artist?” Iemitsu grinned. “Paint me!”

“No.”

“Eh?! Why?!”

“A painting takes two days at minimum even _alla prima_ , and you're never around long enough,” Ietsuna wiped his palette knife with a rag set aside.

“You can make the time,” Tsuna pointed out. “Papa will probably be on the veranda later drinking beer anyway.”

“... I'll consider it,” Ietsuna noted. “We should help Mum.”

Tsuna nodded, walking into the kitchen where the sound of frying dominated. Ietsuna continued cleaning the knife and palette, now just looking at Iemitsu.

“I know you know what you did,” Iemitsu gritted his teeth, abandoning the pretence. “It's for Tsuna's sake. You stopped us from sealing Tsuna's Flames for a reason, right?”

“Hmm?” Ietsuna cocked his head, shrugging like the ignorant teenager he was, despite his amber eyes almost glittering at Iemitsu, hypnotising as the few portraits of Vongola Primo around Vongola main headquarters. “I don't understand, _Dad_.”

 _He's a brat... right. How could he?_ “I see. It's just an old man's dreaming. You and Tsuna, you've met Reborn, right?”

“You left your family for the Mafia, sending back only money, and laze around when you get back, only to tell us that we're joining it,” Ietsuna commented. “I thought they only accepted pure-blooded Italians. I won't pretend to understand your reasons. I won't pretend to care, or expect anything. Wear that stupid grin and laugh and be hated. Just know that, as long as Tsuna needs me, I will be here.”

The amber sharpened. Ietsuna left for the stairs, leaving Iemitsu to ruminate at the thought of amber eyes and hovering Flames... and blood.

Between Tsuna, and between Primo, lay the blood of Iemitsu, two Ietsuna – the late grandfather, and the current Ietsuna – one Yoshinobu, Yoshimune, to Ieyasu... the Blood of Vongola was not one person alone, but continuing through time, a distant past that encompassed and surpassed him and bore their own hate and regrets. It hurt, but Iemitsu had resigned himself to know that one child would be dead to the Sawada family, for the other to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *barley tea
> 
> Yeah, the 1827 interaction is super-domestic, and I promise to give all the details behind the twins joining the DC soon.
> 
> Also, I will be moving towards a weekly schedule now so that I have time to work out more details.
> 
> Please review!


	4. Folio 3: Cangiante

Not a single bullet found itself near Tsuna within the one week after Reborn's entry into the Sawada home – and Iemitsu's very fast leaving. Not from lack of effort on Reborn's part; Hyper Intuition apparently included saving its holders from sudden bullets even when they were so desperately needed and entertaining – for Reborn. In the one week before Reborn's special Ietsuna-handling assassin was here, though, Reborn did manage to piece together a coherent picture of school relations and the Sawada twins; some expected, some unusual, and some...

Yamamoto Takeshi had been expected; what had _not_ been, was the degree that the twins got along with him. The dark-haired baseball ace definitely bore signs of over-exercise, which was being dealt by the twins and their efforts to make sure the field stayed closed after eight. It was a common sight for the two of them to patrol around, red armbands signifying both protection, sanction, and Reborn's annoyance, since they were on duty.

The armbands were identical to those worn by a troop of Elvis-impersonating delinquents, or the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee and its Vice-chair, Kusakabe Tetsuya. For a student with supposedly bad grades – and damn Iemitsu for that misinformation, Reborn would be on to Vongola about their information-gathering capabilities – Tsuna was doing well enough as its general affairs manager, and surprisingly well enough to keep a position where he was arguing with Hibari in the club-association meetings to leave more funds for the other clubs and _no, Hibari-san, you do not need more tea stocked!_

The other twin was regarded as a saint by most of the student body; on hindsight, _anyone_ would be a saint compared to Hibari. Even Ietsuna, the little troll.

Which brought them back to the _troubles_ ; most, if not all of which, could be blamed on Hibari Kyoya. Those with strong Cloud Flames were always wild cards to start with, but Reborn had yet to meet a civilian that could inspire such indirect trouble.

It was Tsuna's fault. Definitely. All Tsuna's fault.

“Hibari-san was so cool, the way he stopped Mochida-sempai from stalking Kyoko-chan,” Tsuna was saying, but to Reborn anything involving Hibari – or even mentioning the Disciplinary Committee – gave him the impression that Tsuna was a closet fanboy. “And then he just pushed the organisation for the volleyball competition to me... well, I suppose he's busy. Hibari-san is definitely busier than he lets on...”

“...I'm going to vomit if exposed to any more of this,” Reborn turned to Ietsuna and tried to ignore the storm of dazzles that had Sawada Tsunayoshi at its eye. “Why are we observing the courtship habits of the herbivorous male?”

“Go back to Italy if you don't want to,” Ietsuna drawled. “Besides, Tsuna is not courting Hibari. Who in their right mind would _court_ Hibari?”

“Then what do you call this?” Reborn pointed.

“Cleaning symbiosis.”

“...so the two of you are basically hiding behind the reputation of Namimori's strongest student,” Reborn stated flatly, “and Tsuna is providing domestic services in exchange for protection.”

“Don't let Tsuna hear you say that,” Ietsuna actually sounded alarmed, amber eyes widening as he peered in the direction of his sparkling identical twin. “He joined the Disciplinary Committee because of my bet, but he's found something like a purpose there.”

“What was this bet?” Reborn pressed.

“...” Ietsuna pondered, still writing out a few stray reports in the reception room. “...it was a year ago, I think. On the first day of our first year of middle school, I created the Art Club with Tsuna and myself as the founding members. To get funds, I challenged the Disciplinary Committee that I could design a poster enough to attract more members to apply for the Disciplinary Committee. Kusakabe-san might have his fellow former delinquents on hand, but it was a show, you see, to test if there was any force in the universe capable of persuading normal people to work under Hibari Kyoya.”

“And you lost,” Reborn guessed.

“...I won,” Ietsuna smirked at the baby hitman, earning himself the barrel of a Leon-gun pressed to his temple. “In the beginning, I made the bet with the intention of protecting Tsuna. If a freshman could win against the Demon of Namimori, I could get the social clout to protect my brother. The result impressed Hibari so much, that the Art Club got annexed, and Tsuna and I ended up with the Disciplinary Committee.”

More scratching of pen on paper from Ietsuna plodding through homework and Tsuna's Maths assignment before Reborn found his voice. “It's good... that poster. Tsuna cross-dressing. You made that?”

“You saw it, Reborn?” Ietsuna laughed lowly, the other twin having already gone out for another cup of tea. “Most of that was Tsuna trying to get us not bitten to death. I'm grateful for my twin... though I wonder what would happen if I told Hibari that the Disciplinary Committee's flower only has a stamen.*”

Reborn began to smile. It boded well for neither Sawada, and Ietsuna started to inch away from the demon tutor.

The door creaked open. “Ie, I brought more tea-” Tsuna paused. “I feel like something is going to happen...”

* * *

“Cross-dress in school?” Tsuna sputtered at Reborn's mandate.

“Of course,” Reborn lied swiftly and without remorse. “A Mafia boss is surrounded by the respect and admiration of all, and is seen as a hero by the children of the slums.”

“You can't!” Ietsuna protested vehemently. “Tsuna, stripping to your boxers and running around is way better than this!”

“It's alright,” Tsuna sighed, turning back to his closet. “At best, I'll be bitten to death. I won't be shot to death, Ie. Just... Reborn-san, I'll need a bit of time.”

“...why are you so happy?” The initial rush of joy and sadism was dying at the boy's passiveness.

“What have you _done,_ Reborn?” Ietsuna moped while slumping on the edge of his bed.

“Well, you said he was-” the words died as Tsuna came back out. “Was...”

“Ie, it's time for school,” Caramel eyes stared at the amber-eyed twin.

“You're too dangerous. Don't come near me,” Ietsuna looked away from the smiling twin.

Tsuna was humming as he walked out of the room, the baby hitman still paralysed there.

“What... did I do?”

“You got Tsuna in touch with his feminine side,” Ietsuna moaned, closing his hands over his face. “This is the logical conclusion of what happens to the saying that men are made of courage and women are made of love, and Tsuna who wants courage to love the world.”

Reborn stared at him. “Basically, I've just unleashed a monster, haven't I?”

“Worse.”

Ietsuna and Reborn rushed out of the house, taking to jump over walls to catch up. The baby hitman might be strong, but seeing Ietsuna climb over walls, run on roofs and jump for telephone poles was amazing. Just before the gates of Namimori Middle was a quaking pair of Disciplinary Committee grunts, and just ahead was a familiar head of black standing out in contrast to the head of brown.

The brown continued to the white of a short-sleeved shirt, and a navy blue skirt that ended at the mid-thigh, before continuing on to proportionally long white legs clothed in black socks and shoes. And if that wasn't clear enough, the blue hair decorations made him stand out more.

“Dammit, Hibari's here!” Ietsuna skidded to a halt with Reborn. “He saw!”

“...Little animal,” Hibari was saying, amidst a sea of onlookers, “you are breaking the rules.”

“There is... no rule... against boys wearing skirts to school, Hibari-san” Tsuna pointed out. He sounded sad, or reluctant.

“Bringing weapons to school is prohibited.”

_His cross-dressing is classed as weapons-grade?_

“I... won't do it again, Hibari-san,” Tsuna bowed his head.

“...It suits you.” A black _gakuran_ jacket was shrouded over Tsuna's shoulders. “Your punishment will be to wear that the whole day. Do not take it off, even to adjust it.”

“Yes, Hibari-san...?”

“It's a saint!” the trembling DC grunt was exclaiming in a motion best described as milking the sky. “I've just seen an angel!”

He died honourably under the righteous tonfa of Hibari Kyoya flung towards him. “Are you herbivores crowding?” the black-haired chairman threatened.

It cleared the crowds fast enough.

“I'm so happy for you, Kyo-san!” Kusakabe started crying in the background. “You've found yourself a _tennyo_!”

“What... did I just see?” Ietsuna echoed.

One thing was clear, though; the whole school now knew that it was the general affairs manager's hopeful expression that kept Hibari at bay.

* * *

“Are you Gokudera Hayato-san?”

“What's it matter-” the words caught in his throat.

“I'm glad,” the angel smiled at him, her black wings neatly folded behind her back and streaked with red on the right. “For a moment I thought you've gone ahead without me. I'm Sawada, and I’ll be helping to integrate you into our student body. Gokudera-san, here is the general rulebook, a few pamphlets about the extracurriculars our school offers, and your timetable schedule. Your class is 1-A, I'll show you there right now. Do you have any questions?”

“Are you a _tennyo_ _**_? Or a UMA?” Gokudera leant forward.

Cue the sparkly smile. “I'm a guy.”

“N- No way!” Depression overcame the teenage hitman. “But... I can't find it in myself to care...”

“Shall we go, Gokudera-san?” Sawada-san smiled again.

“Yes!”

Which found Gokudera glaring at the brown-haired prefect seated in the same classroom he was in and lamenting that the cross-dressing prefect had an excuse note. Fine, at least he was close to the target of the prospective Vongola heir...

“Students, settle down! We have a new transfer student who was studying overseas in Italy. His name is Gokudera Hayato...”

The heir barely even looked up as his desk was kicked over, to the shocked murmurs of several other students – and fangirls. “Is this a tradition from Italy, Gokudera-san?”

Gokudera tsked, leaning down to the boy. “I won't accept you as Vongola's boss,” he hissed. “I'm more fit for the position.”

“If you have any questions, I'll be glad to help you after school,” Ietsuna continued loudly, in a cheerful tone. “Shall we meet behind the school building?”

“Ietsuna-san, please try to keep Disciplinary Committee matters outside of the classroom,” the teacher murmured. “Sawada-san isn't here to ward off Hibari-san... I'm scared...”

One of the school's most sensible girls, Kurokawa Hana, blinked. “Are you supposed to admit that, _sensei..._?”

* * *

During lunch break, Ietsuna walked into the empty reception room, dropped a form into Hibari's in-tray, grabbed his lunch-box and a shoe-bag from a cabinet, and walked out under Hibari's gaze.

“What is the meaning of this, Sawada Ietsuna?”

“Gokudera brought bombs to school,” Ietsuna shrugged, opening the shoe-bag. “I'll take care of it. You watch Tsuna.”

“Herbivores that threaten the peace of Namimori will be bitten to death,” Hibari noted, reading the form. “Very well. I'll have Kusakabe ready to dispose of the corpse.”

“Have you been taking lessons from Kiryuuin or Suzuki?” Ietsuna dodged the tonfa flung at him, which embedded itself into the far wall by the general affairs desk. He pulled from a drawer the stamp and stamped the form, slotting it into the out-tray. “Ah, that's going to be a bitch to remove... I'm going. Yo, Tsuna.”

Tsuna blinked as Ietsuna walked out. “Why is Ie wearing his _savate_ shoes?”

“He has work,” Hibari murmured. “Biting herbivores to death.”

“I see...” Tsuna trailed over to his desk, rifling through the in-tray and out-tray, frowning at the form. “...Hibari-san, do you pin your jacket to your shirt?”

“Why?”

“I have to stop Ie from killing someone,” The form was tucked away into a pocket, Tsuna pulled a few safety pins and started to thread the shoulders through. “I'm sorry if you don't, but Hibari-san told me not to take your jacket off, right? I'm going out.”

The red of the armband flashed in the light, especially as Tsuna ran for the window and threw himself out. Grey eyes widened at the illusion, almost like there was someone about to fly towards the wide blue skies... like the momentary flight to the blue and inviting sky.

“Ah, Sawada-san isn't here?” Kusakabe walked in.

“He went out to handle something.”

“How rare,” Kusakabe commented. “You don't usually let that Sawada out of your reach.”

“Oh... I gave him a _hagoromo_ ,***” Hibari realised. “Little animals need to discover their reach sometimes.”

“Kyo-san... you've reached another stage of maturity,” Kusakabe wiped a tear from his eye.

“But if he's not back in time to finish the day's work...”

“...one step at a time,” Kusakabe backed off at the Disciplinary Committee chairman's blackened aura of demonic wrath.

* * *

“YOU'RE NOT FIT TO BE THE TENTH!!”

“I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THAT FROM YOU!” Ietsuna's foot slammed into the silver-haired hitman's middle, sending the Smoking Bomb skidding back but also putting himself at risk of scattering dynamite sticks.

“Dammit!” Ietsuna jumped back.

“Your resolve is tainted by fear,” Gokudera mocked. Where that phrase came from, it was possibly pop-cultural osmosis. Definitely.

“He's a _savate_ fighter,” Reborn noted Ietsuna's lack of hand-to-hand and reliance on his legs. “I'm surprised. Who trained him, I wonder...?”

“You're fairly strong, trash,” Gokudera noted. “I should have gone for the other candidate first.”

“Don't you dare,” Ietsuna scoffed. “And why the hell do you have so many sticks?!”

“It's said that Gokudera Hayato can hide bombs in any part of his body,” Reborn offered. “In short, he's a human bomb.”

“ _Any_ part?” Ietsuna frowned, before flipping again and kicking another stick up to watch it explode harmlessly, if somewhat loudly.

“My other name is Hurricane Bomb Hayato,” Gokudera growled as the sticks lit up, almost automatically. “Brace yourself.”

“Bomb...” Smoke billowed out in the resulting explosion and conflagration.

Gokudera scoffed. “His death just proved that his resolve was weak.”

A glint, and Gokudera flinched as the heavy cloth slapped him in the face, followed by a reinforced rubber sole carried by a _fouetté figure_. Amber eyes shining, Ietsuna panted, shirtless after having flung his shirt at Gokudera.

“At this range, you'll blow yourself up along with me,” Ietsuna looked relaxed despite the prospect of certain death. “I might as well be standing in the eye of a hurricane.”

“I can't say I'm too sure about that exhibitionist getup,” Gokudera wiped the blood off his chin.

“Exhibitionist?” This earned a jab into the liver and a hook punch, and hits in time to the last four syllables. “The fact that you are embarrassed by the value of the masses only prove how small you are! If it means that I can protect my brother, I'll show neither shame nor hesitation, even if I have to strip off everything! My actions are utterly PURE!”

Reborn was aiming already, though he doubted that anything would break the single-minded killing focus Ietsuna seemed to have. Gokudera was sent skidding back, and Ietsuna reached for the pocket of his pants to draw a palette knife.

“What are you doing, Ietsuna?” Reborn started.

“Defeating him permanently.”

“We're from the same Family and you're going to kill me?” Gokudera gaped.

“Yes.” The reply was delivered flat and sharp. “Normally I'll just turn you in, but if you go free, you'll just target my brother. Nothing in this universe is more important than my brother.”

 _He's really going to kill me,_ Gokudera tried to move. _This guy doesn't care about Vongola or the Mafia or even loyalty in the Familgia-_

“Anything to say?” Ietsuna gave a small, innocent smile.

“You're utterly shameless, Ie,” That gentle voice spoke close to them. “Shameless enough to force through an excuse form when I'm not around.”

The knife clattered as it was dropped.

“When did he appear?” Reborn pondered, using a stubby hand to massage his ears as he spotted Tsuna standing between Ietsuna's knife and Gokudera. “Maybe the dynamite...”

 _Pak_. The red armband fluttered as the slap echoed.

Ietsuna reared back, clutching his cheek. “W- What was that for?!”

“Lying on the form,” the form was pulled out from Tsuna's pocket. “'For the crime of bringing illegal weapons to school, Gokudera Hayato is to be administered one biting, and subsequently disposed by the Disciplinary Committee'... That was what you wrote, yes, Ie?”

“That's in accordance with the rules as well,” Ietsuna argued. “He's a hitman out to kill us. We kill him first. End of story.”

“Even so, this does not merit a student expulsion in suspicion of terrorist activities,” Tsuna serenely replied. “I'm sure Gokudera-san will explain himself now, and we will not have to besmirch anyone's reputation.”

“R- Reborn-san called me here from Italy, Sawada-san...” Gokudera bowed his head, sitting on his haunches. “I'm a part of the Familgia.”

“You're in the Mafia too, Gokudera-san?” Tsuna stated. “I see. So, my twin brother filled in that form in preparation for corpse disposal...”

“Twins?!” Gokudera stared. “B- But... he said that I could be the Tenth if I got rid of him... there were two candidates?! Killing a _tennin_ is unlucky...”

“I'm human, Gokudera-san,” Tsuna interrupted.

“So, Tsuna, what will you do?” Reborn asked as Leon transformed back into its usual form. “The one who loses becomes the winner's subordinate; that is the family's rule.”

“Actually...” Gokudera swallowed, bowing his head. “I didn't really have ambitions to become the Tenth. It's just that, I wanted to see if the Tenth had the strength to become a suitable boss. You're much more than I expected, even running out in female clothing to save me! For putting yourself on the line, I'll gladly follow you, Sawada-sama!”

“Ah, I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Tsuna demurred. “You've... met my twin, Sawada Ietsuna. I'm sorry about the scare you got. I'm glad I made it on time from the reception room in five minutes.”

“That's across the school, on the third floor,” Ietsuna sharply interjected, all traces of the prospective murderer gone. “How did you run here?”

“I jumped down and ran.”

“That's dangerous!”

“You're dangerous too, and Gokudera-san was in danger as well,” Tsuna explained, the twins currently ignoring Gokudera. “It's fine, right? Hibari-san and you do it all the time.”

“Hibari is Hibari,” Ietsuna rebutted. “I am myself. What if you broke your legs? You're practically tempting that pervert sadist like this. No, you should go home and change. Like, now.”

“They say men are made of courage and women are made of love,” Tsuna smiled. “So what does that mean for _okama_? We are invincible!****”

“What are you gonna do, burn them to death?! Hurry up and change!”

“The twins just switched roles,” Reborn wiped his eyes. “I can't tell which is which, except by clothing.” _This isn't good..._

“I'm fine either way!” Gokudera declared. “Such brotherly love between Tenth and Ietsuna-sama touches my heart! Tenth, if you wish to cross-dress, I'll support you all the way! You're not just cute! You're beautiful!”

“I'm fairly supportive of Tsuna cross-dressing!” Ietsuna defended as a few third-year delinquents came along.

“Oh, it's Hibari's wife,” one of them teased. “Cutting class? This requires some punishment.”

“...We'll have a truce for now,” Ietsuna started towards Gokudera. A palette and a knife made itself comfortable in his hands. “The small fry grow out of their place.”

“Leave it to me!” Gokudera brought out the really big sticks of dynamite.

Well, normally that would have been the perfect ending. Except that Reborn decided that this was a great time to make Tsuna fight with his Dying Will, after one week of sabotage. The bullet sailed through, hitting Tsuna straight in the forehead between the eyes...

“T- The volcano...” Ietsuna was backing away very quickly. “Come on, Gokudera!”

“What's wrong with Tenth, Ietsuna-sama?”

“Call me Ie!” Ietsuna corrected, amber eyes wide. “And, as for what happened... the volcano woke up.”

Yes, that was a fair estimate, comparing the other potential heir to a natural disaster. Brow furrowed, fists held as if in prayer, eyes flashing amber with the fire of the Vongola blood... some natural disaster had befallen three unworthy delinquents, and Reborn just stared at the... well, it was a bit like watching ripples form on the surface of a very, very deep lake of magma. Or simple desperation.

Only when the last delinquent had fallen that Ietsuna's foot met Tsuna's fist, stopping the spirit of fiery vengeance with two moves. “Tsuna.”

The spark faded, the flames died, and caramel eyes blinked as the sleeves of the black jacket draped around his shoulders fluttered. “I- Ie? What are you doing?”

“...Reborn,” the drawl carried an edge, much like the grind of a glacier.

Tsuna's own morphing expression and answering drawl was very much like the cracking of a summer storm. “What happened?”

“You made like Lunatic,” was the icy reply. “Don't worry, nobody was burnt to death. But we have another problem.”

“We do?” Tsuna looked up, answered by a pair of gleaming grey eyes that stared meaningfully down. “H- Hibari-san! I- It's not what it looks like, we aren't crowding-”

“Sawada Tsunayoshi,” came the breathy reply. “You've been holding out on me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Terrible flower symbology, haha.
> 
> ** AKA Celestial maiden.
> 
> *** It's a motif connected to the tennyo/tennin legend. The hagoromo 羽衣 is a feather mantle that tennin use to fly, like the swan maidens in Western mythology.
> 
> **** Fire Emblem's epic quote from Tiger & Bunny: The Rising. Which also explains the follow-up joke from Ietsuna... coincidence?


	5. Folio 4: Buon fresco

“Uhm... is this Kyo-san's version of a couple game, Ietsuna-san?” Kusakabe Tetsuya leant away from the main compound of Namimori Middle for the third time that week. The poor man looked a bit freaked, to be honest, though whether at the sight itself or at the idea of Hibari Kyoya having sex was debatable.

“...No,” Ietsuna just stared at the scene, one arm holding Gokudera in his place. “Why would you say that?”

“Kyo-san is brimming with... bloodlust,” Kusakabe remarked as Tsuna made a high leap and possibly also flashed his pursuer, if the pause was any indication. “He's also very keen on Sawada-san cross-dressing recently...”

“If it was, it'd be an incredibly violent and one-sided couple game of catch,” Ietsuna made a face. “Say, if Hibari catches Tsuna...”

Gokudera choked. “We must intervene, Ietsuna-sama! The Tenth's virtue is at stake!”

“Drop the '-sama', Gokudera,” Ietsuna instructed, hefting his bag to launch himself. “Shitty Hibari-”

“Sawada Ietsuna,” came Hibari's answer as he paused in his tonfa chase on Tsuna, “I am prepared to return you the Art Club if you stay on the sidelines in this matter.”

“...Tsuna's bride price isn't that low.”

“This is-!” Gokudera gasped. “Don't fall to temptation, Onii-san!”

“I'm the younger brother...” Ietsuna smirked.

“Don't change your standing in the family when you feel like it!” Tsuna hollered, narrowly dodging a tonfa. “Hibari-san, I'm really not up to fighting you. In fact, I'm against violence!”

“This is a game,” Hibari stated. “The rule is easy. As long as you remain within the campus in that scandalous getup, I'll bite you to death.”

“How one-sided!” Tsuna squealed, tugging at the dark blue skirt. “I didn't have a choice! Next time I'm not going to listen to Kusakabe-san!”

“Sorry, Sawada-san...” the second-in-command bowed as Hibari directed a thumbs-up towards Kusakabe. “The peace is more important...”

Ietsuna closed one eye, let go of Gokudera's collar, and the rain of dynamites created a procession of dust clouds that led to the building entrance. “Yosh, we're safe.”

“Gokudera-san!” Tsuna went running back out, dragging Gokudera behind him. “Don't sacrifice other people, Ie!”

“I'm ashamed that you had to save me again, Tenth...!”

“THAT WAS EXTREME, BOTH OF YOU! JOIN THE BOXING CLUB!”

“Sorry, _boxe française_ is totally different from the Queensberry rules,” Ietsuna replied, shielding himself from the extremely loud white-haired boxer. “Besides that, I'm not intending a _dojo-yaburi 1_, Sasagawa-sempai.”

“So, Tsuna!” Sasagawa Ryohei bellowed. “Join the boxing club as an extreme man!”

“We're already in the Disciplinary Committee, Sasagawa-sempai,” Tsuna demurred as a brown-haired girl approached them. “Good morning, Kyoko-chan-”

“Just in time!” Kyoko started. “We need your help, Ie-kun, Tsuna-kun!”

“Hell no!”

* * *

“Why are the two of us accepting your _onigiri_?” Ietsuna grumbled in the resulting scene cut to after Home Economics class.

“Because, as two monkeys serving as Hibari's admin staff, you're basically off-limits to peer pressure,” Hana remarked dryly.

“Switch with me, Tsuna,” Ietsuna suddenly stated, plopping the white rice-balls from Hana onto his brother's lap and taking away the purple wormy _things_ from Tsuna's hands.

“Ie!” Tsuna exclaimed as Ietsuna bit into the purple wormy thing, which released a purplish gas that had Gokudera keeling over within sight of it.

“Hmm, the rice is overcooked,” Ietsuna stated to the ears of several students, and two hitmen. A crow fell down from overhead, choking to death as its body slapped against the window.

“I- Ie! Those are poisonous!” Tsuna squeaked. “Hurry up and put those down! Spit it out!”

“ _Arancini_ would have been a better idea,” Ietsuna continued eating calmly, methodically and uncaring, except that his eyes were on Tsuna the whole time.

“...that boy is shaping up to be a difficult target,” Reborn remarked, nestled within Bianchi's arms on the roof with Leon-binoculars trained on the twins, and Tsuna's increasingly panicked attempts to stop the ingestion of any more Poison Cooking. “Immune to Dying Will Bullets, Poison Cooking, skilled at fighting... if he's working under Hibari, I wouldn't be surprised if the boy can take down full-grown Yakuza bare-handed. He would be an effective anti-Flame opponent.”

“Reborn... just hearing your complaints make me despair that I cannot help you kill one of the Decimo candidates,” Bianchi lamented. “Is there nothing I can do? The twin candidates must be kill- I mean, they must die in horrible accidents for Reborn to be free...”

“That difficulty just increased, since Sawada Ietsuna has a unique physiology that resists Flames and allows him to eat Poison Cooking without adverse effects,” Reborn noted. “Coupled with an absolute lack of hesitation and that battle instinct I saw against Gokudera, he would be the strongest anti-Mafia opponent in history; any police would love to have him. The only thing that holds him back... is his twin brother, Tsuna.”

The baby hitman hopped down to pace, Leon hanging off of his fedora. “From what I recall, the Ninth never got around to sealing Tsuna's Flames because of Sawada Ietsuna's diversions. The black flame, and the ice of Zero Point Breakthrough... a lot of phenomena surround them. If Ietsuna can use Zero Point Breakthrough... that technique extends to passive Flame energy as well, so Ietsuna might be more accurately stated to be a walking negative energy converter; energy that comes into contact with him becomes negative energy. From that little experiment with Poison Cooking, that conversion of energy also applies to his internal environment. So, if Tsuna is a positive-energy individual, Ietsuna is the negative-energy counterpart.”

“You're saying that...” Bianchi's brow furrowed. “...that my Poison Cooking is... being absorbed into the boy's body? Reborn, won't that defy the law of conservation of energy? Where is all the energy going?”

“As we understand it, it is an epistemic impossibility, so in some respect we must have stated it wrongly,” Reborn commented. “The twins do share Primo's bloodline. If we accept that Tsuna is the one who bears the Flames, and Ietsuna the one who can use the Zero Point Breakthrough, then we can postulate that the energy Ietsuna absorbs is transferred to Tsuna via a Maxwell's demon construct.”

“I'm sorry, Reborn, I don't understand,” Bianchi lamented. “The famous thought experiment created by the physicist James Clerk Maxwell demonstrates how the Second Law of thermodynamics can be hypothetically violated. A container of gas molecules at equilibrium is divided into two parts by an insulated wall, with a door that can be opened and closed by an entity that came to be the hypothetical demon. The demon opens the door to allow only the faster molecules to flow through to a favoured side of the chamber, and only the slower molecules to the other side, causing the favoured side to gradually heat up while the other side cools down, thus decreasing entropy. If the Decimo candidates share this sort of link, they must by necessity share an existence, since Maxwell's demon can only operate within a closed system2.”

“Yes,” Reborn agreed. “It is impossible as I state it, and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong. Two people cannot share the same existence.”

He mulled over the pieces, the amber eyes of Ietsuna always fresh and mocking in his mind. The pacifier hung like a millstone, a grave reminder that one student had, nearly by accident, done what most hitmen had failed: to kill Reborn.

* * *

“I took the liberty to remove your bombs from the atelier,” was Ietsuna's welcoming comment on his return to the Sawada house. It was longer than the few courtesies that Reborn exchanged with Tsuna and Nana in the kitchen.

“They were booby-trapped,” Reborn pointed out.

“So they were.” Ietsuna mixed some red with a dark blue right onto the canvas, the dark purple smeared with the _gesso_ already there. The palette knife scraped at the paint, digging lines and spreading out a glossy night to the horizon line. “How was your walk around town?”

“Who are you?”

“Sawada Ietsuna.”

The hammer clicked back, the revolver levelled at Ietsuna's back. “I asked you a question.”

“I am Ietsuna Sawada. _私は澤田家綱です 3_. _Je suis_ _Sawada, prénom Ietsuna_. Anything else?” Ietsuna's tone was flat, considering that his life was still at stake.

“Today you met Bianchi,” Reborn started. “You ate her Poison Cooking without any effect, and in doing so saved your brother.”

“Was it?” Ietsuna poured out some turpentine, now using the orange on the opposite end of the palette. “Who's Bianchi?”

“She's downstairs, hopefully not targeting Tsuna,” Reborn grimly stated as the window slid open. The second-floor window.

“Die, Reborn!”

“My _capriccio_!” the bored look vanished as a bullet hole dug through the round disk of the sun and missed hitting Ietsuna, Reborn whacked a grenade back, which exploded next to a yelling Lambo.

The tree branch he was on broke. “AAAHHHH!”

The palette knife found itself being used as a weapon again, sticking through the boy's curly afro and the trunk and pinning the hitman to the trunk as his weapons fell harmlessly down.

“Gotta... be... calm...”

“Oh, who do we have here?” The palette knife was pried out, and the would-be assassin pulled in through the window with it by its owner. The knife was immediately hefted with a smile. “Your name?”

“ _I, Lambo-san, a hitman from the Bovino Family,_ _who came from Italy,_ _just got captured!!_ ” Lambo started yelling. “ _I came here to assassinate Reborn!_ ”

“Your acquaintance?” Ietsuna remarked.

“I don't know him,” Reborn answered. “If it's the Bovino Family, they're a rather small Mafia group. I don't associate with those who rank lower than me.”

“Duly noted. Lambo-san, I am Sawada Ietsuna, your captor. You will be a prisoner until we ransom you back,” Ietsuna decided, grabbing a sketchbook and a pencil case as well. “I'll tell Tsuna and Kaa-san that we'll have an extra guest. Oh, and, Reborn... since our entire family is lower than you, then why are you here?”

Reborn remained quiet as the twin walked out. “Smart-ass.”

“You're a meanie!” Lambo complained.

“I have candy,” Ietsuna muttered.

“I- Is it grape candy?” Lambo's desire and caution warred in his mind.

“Yes.”

Caution died an ignoble death in the face of grape candy. “I'm sorry, you're a good guy...”

“Kaa-san, Reborn made a new friend,” Ietsuna announced, carrying Lambo out. “I'm taking Lambo out for ice-cream.”

“Okay! Be back soon!”

Tsuna poked his head out. “Reborn's friend?”

“ _Gyupaa_!” Lambo stared. “There's two of you! And one's a girl!”

“I'm a boy,” Tsuna wiped his hands on the pink striped apron. “A _friend_ of Reborn, Ie?”

“This is Lambo, a five-year-old hitman from the Bovino Family in Italy,” Ietsuna introduced. “More like a distant acquaintance of Reborn. Apparently he was sent to kill Reborn, so we're holding him hostage againstwhat sounds like a borderline abusive mafia Family.”

“I see,” Tsuna bent down to smile at Lambo, and it was like beholding the smiling face of Buddha. “Nice to meet you, Lambo-kun. I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi, twin of Ie here. Do you have any favourite foods?”

“Grapes and candy!” Lambo was clearly feeling better.

“Ah, that's nice,” Nana poked her head out. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Tsuna smiled, again with a beatific aura that manifested in the form of an awed Lambo and a piece of wrapped grape candy. “Can you eat octopus?”

“Yes! Lambo-san loves octopus4!” Lambo exclaimed. “You're nice people, unlike that meanie Reborn!”

“That's good,” Tsuna turned around as something imploded in the kitchen. “Ah, Bianchi-san! Sorry, Lambo-kun, Ie, I've got to...”

Lambo was still staring as the angel left. “...pretty Tsuna-nii...”

“Well, you'll see them later at dinner,” Ietsuna carried the child hitman out to the park, the child still munching on the grape candy if the crunches were any indication.

The crunches continued through their stroll, next to a riverbank, and then onto the sloping field next to the river by Namimori. There was a sign next to the river, with a kappa drawn on it. Lambo gaped at the seriously bad cartoon as he swallowed the candy.

“L- Lambo's dream is to become the Boss of the Bovino Family *sniff*... and make all humanity bow down to me...”

“That's nice,” Ietsuna commented, sketching the skyline by the river with a B pencil.

“Lambo-san was sent here on a very important mission to kill the super first-class hitman Reborn,” Lambo continued.

“You met Reborn before?” Ietsuna lifted his hand to check a tree on the far riverbank.

“Yeah! Lambo-san met Reborn in a bar with his Boss,” Lambo continued. “We spoke a lot while Lambo was eating his favourite grapes, and Reborn was blowing bubbles out of his nose-,” “He was _sleeping_ -” “-then, Lambo-san's father told him that if he wanted to make his family proud, he had to kill the number one hitman, Reborn. Lambo-san can do it of course, he just doesn't feel like it.”

“It's a good goal,” Lambo smiled at the thumbs up. “So, you have a contact?”

“...what is that?”

“...” Ietsuna regarded the child hitman, amber eyes boring down on the boy and sketch put down. “...someone who helps you. Sometimes, even Reborn needs help.”

* * *

“I'm surprised,” Reborn commented at the dinner table later. “Ietsuna can be good with kids.”

Ietsuna ignored him. “Lambo, you have sauce on your face.”

“He is,” Tsuna confirmed, a touch worried as Bianchi hovered, glaring at Tsuna. Perhaps it was the apron. “He teaches them all the wrong things.”

“Oh?”

“I'm worried that one day he's going to teach them _parkour_ or something,” Tsuna commented, handing a surprisingly compliant and quiet Lambo a napkin. Lambo blew into it, green eyes always watching as he dabbed his face. The corners of Ietsuna's mouth twitched, and Lambo grinned like it meant the world to him. “He's surprisingly good with kids, though...”

“It's a happy family talent,” Nana cooed. “Tsu-kun got all the cooking talent, and Na-kun the child-handling talent. They'll have a happy family between the two of them.”

“I'm not the guy who left us and only sends money back,” Ietsuna retorted, but he looked a bit happy. It was a bit hard to tell. “Kids must have their games as well.”

“So... where is he staying?”

“In my atelier.”

Tsuna's face spasmed, and it turned slightly pale. “He's sharing a room with us. I'm not letting him near those turpentine fumes.”

“Fine,” Ietsuna sighed. “I'll sleep in the atelier tonight. We can figure out some arrangements that don't have the kid scared to death by Reborn.”

“I'm not the bad guy here,” Reborn spoke up. He felt the twin stares mixed with incredulity soon enough. Ietsuna not believing him was bad enough; the sad thing was, even Tsuna didn't believe him, if the twin expressions of _you monster_ was any indication, especially since Ietsuna's face bore an expression of vindicated glee.

* * *

“You know, at this rate we're never going to escape the Mafia world,” Ietsuna commented to his brother from his easel. Diagrams and equations littered his half of it, complete with paints and brushes and art materials.

“Ie...” Tsuna was at his small desk, still scribbling away at his homework with the windows open. One turpentine-induced small fire had been enough to institute something resembling safety procedures within the atelier. “...do you regret taking in Lambo-kun?”

“I'm just pointing it out,” Ietsuna replied. “Weirdos and hitmen followed Reborn into Namimori after us. At this rate, our chances at a normal life away from that man decreases. Don't you want that?”

“I'd like that peaceful life,” Tsuna agreed. “You're right. The world of the Mafia must be cruel and cold-hearted... I'm not like you. Right now, my life pretty much revolves around school, home and my part-time job. I can't see the now, much less my own boring future. If it's to protect your future...”

“'What we mean by 'right now' is a mysterious thing which we cannot define and we cannot affect, but it can affect us later, or we could have affected it if we had done something far enough in the past',” Ietsuna replied tersely as a splatter of black littered on the canvas. “The theoretical physicist Richard Phillips Feynman said that. We promised, right, Tsuna? We'll always be together... we _promised_!”

“We will,” Tsuna comforted, dropping his pen as he whirled around to face his brother. “We will, Ie. Don't worry... could you put the knife down? You've been... tense... since Reborn arrived-”

“It's that _Reborn_ ,” Ietsuna snarled darkly at the painting, the bold strokes of grey-white interrupted with tongues of black and its instrument set on the easel rack. “How did we end up like this, Tsuna? How about we become monsters together... and lay waste to this awful world? We'll wipe out everything. All traces of evil, or sadness... just destroy and destroy until there's nothing left. That sounds... nice.”

“Please don't say that, Ie.” Homework forgotten, Tsuna walked over to hug Ietsuna, their bodies co-joined almost as mirrors of each other, and angel and its demented fallen demon kin. “Neither of us... neither of us know what it's like to be alone. This world... this world is a little bit sad, and very cruel. It has its good points too, and it's the only choice we have. The fact that we only have one life to live with each other means that we should treasure it all the more.”

“...I still hate this,” Ietsuna snapped, but less grouchily now as the spark in his amber eyes faded somewhat. “...I don't think the Italian Mafia would accept a cross-dressing Boss.”

Tsuna smiled. “Thank you for worrying about me, Ie. I wish I could say the same for myself.”

“You worry about other people so much, worry more about yourself!” Ietsuna pouted, but the twins were clearly back onto well-trodden arguments. The crisis was over, for now, and no mental breakdown was imminent. Tsuna still made sure to count all the palette knives and watch Ietsuna get into his own bed, far away from Reborn, though. Resilient as his twin was, Ietsuna still had a ways to survive Reborn.

* * *

_**1 overthrowing dojos.** _

 

_**2 What Bianchi is saying, is that the Sawada twins shared an identical source of energy, but that Ietsuna 'absorbs' all the energy he receives via Zero Point Breakthrough (Revised/First Edition) and that Tsuna expels all the energy through Dying Will Flames, which essentially makes the twins equal to one person (who can absorb/expel energy, hypothetically) and thus the same existence.** _

_**3Translate: I am Sawada Ietsuna** _

_**4 This sentence is in no way supportive of 59L pairings, though the thought has occurred to me as I was writing this sentence.** _


	6. Folio 5: Contrapposto

A few days of disrupted assassinations later, Bianchi had thrown in the towel. Reborn was really tempted to follow her and simply accept that one of his students was pretty much unkillable except by a normal bullet or some weapon, and no 'accident' was going to help accomplish the mission at any time soon.

“The Gyoza Fist is a huge failure as well,” Reborn glumly glared down as Ietsuna was typing on his phone in front of I-Pin.

It wasn't humiliating enough that Iemitsu's brat had somehow displaced the potential Lightning that Reborn had tricked from Italy. The brat now proved that not only did he have a brain – an improvement from his idiot father – and a phone with Internet access, he also had apparently no sense of smell. Reborn cursed himself over that last bit of information. It should have been obvious; all the turpentine must have screwed up the boy's nose that the stinky gas of the Gyoza Fist would not take.

“Looking for this target... why are you squinting? Wait, I'll just use this handy pair of spectacles that got confiscated...”

“Ie, have you seen-” Tsuna, flanked by Gokudera and Yamamoto and, for today in male clothing, stopped at the sight of the glasses-wearing child assassin. “Oh, you've found I-Pin.”

I-Pin glanced from Ietsuna to Tsuna, and back, and wrung her hands, confusion clear as she babbled in Mandarin. “有两个目标?”

Patiently, the letters were typed in and Ietsuna frowned. “Mandarin. 'There are two targets?'”

The twins exchanged looks and sighed.

“Hibari?” Ietsuna offered.

“Hibari-san,” Tsuna agreed.

Since there were some things that Yahoo Babel Fish1 was unable to translate from Mandarin to Japanese, I-Pin was exposed to the murderously furious Disciplinary Committee, blushed, and nearly blew up the place by attaching herself to Tsuna. Ietsuna picked her up as the Pinzu on her forehead counted down and flung her out of the window. Hibari was still talking to someone in rapid-fire Mandarin of his own phone when Tsuna leapt out to grab I-Pin and Ietsuna jumped out to save them both, everyone landing onto the school grounds safely. Well, more or less.

They stared down at the imploded I-Pin in Tsuna's arms.

“Another one for the house?” Tsuna suggested.

“At this rate we'll probably have practise handling unruly children,” Ietsuna remarked. “Beautiful, great at housework, and love taking care of people, and a vir-”

“Don't say it!” Tsuna freaked. “I'll be sexually harassed!”

“You'll be the _perfect_ housewife,” Ietsuna shrugged.

“Don't you mean house _husband_?”

Tsuna's reply got both of Ietsuna's hands clapped onto his shoulders. “That's OK. But if you're still set on Sasagawa, that might be problematic. That Sasagawa-sempai looks rather traditional...”

“TENTH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Both of them looked up to see Gokudera hanging out of the window, barely held back by Yamamoto. “I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT IMMEDIATELY JUMPING OUT AFTER YOU!”

“We're OK!” Yamamoto gave a thumbs up, still laughing. “Is this the Mafia game the baby was talking about? Hibari looks rather interested about it.”

“He does look excited,” Ietsuna observed the Disciplinary Committee chairman leap out and land on his feet, tonfas about, advancing on the twins from behind Tsuna...

...stop, stare very hard at I-Pin with brow furrowed, then very decisively reach forward-

“HIIIIIEEEEEEEE!” Tsuna's screech echoed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, HIBARI-SAN?!”

“I almost thought I got your gender confused.”

“You bastard!” Gokudera yelled, bright red in the face. “How dare you- how dare you molest the Tenth!”

* * *

So I-Pin awoke to this chaos and still came home with the Sawada twins, much to Nana's joy.

“Oh, Tsu-kun looks so much like a mother!” Nana squealed.

Eyes narrowed. “I'm Ietsuna.”

“S- Sorry, Na-kun!” Nana looked flustered, all traces of happiness gone. “B- But, it looks good on you...”

“A- Anyway, Kaa-san,” Tsuna intervened with a meaningful admonishing look at his twin. “We've got another in need of help...”

“Oh, Hayato,” was Bianchi's opening statement to the new arrival. “You came.”

“A- Aneki...” Cue Gokudera fainting.

“Oh, nice timing,” Tsuna smiled at I-Pin. “Sorry, I-Pin-chan, Gokudera is... handling some past trauma from his older sister. This is Bianchi.”

“ _Buon giorno_ ,” Bianchi beckoned. I-Pin nodded, still frowning as Ietsuna gave her a pair of glasses to clutch and see... the broccoli monster...

“Broccoli monster!” I-Pin blasted him with the Gyoza Fist, resulting in a series of events by which both twins gaped at the purple bazooka that had swallowed up both children barely ten seconds later.

Ietsuna blinked, the faster of the teenagers to react. “What in the- how did that fit into his head?”

Pink smoke exploded, two silhouettes forming...

“The Ten Year Bazooka,” Reborn explained. “It's a bazooka specially made by the Bovino Family, that switches out a person's ten-year-older self with their present self. I suppose we'll see how Lambo and I-Pin looks like right now.”

One of them grabbed Tsuna. “Tsuna-nii!”

“Huh, it's been a while,” the lazy masculine contrast to the high-pitched squeal commented.

“I'm surprised,” Ietsuna commented, looking at the Chinese girl with her hair in looped braids hugging his twin. “Lambo and I-Pin aged nicely.”

“Uh,” Tsuna nodded. Lambo was definitely older, and still wore cow-prints as his buttoned shirt, complemented with a black jacket and cargo trousers with brogues. His messy black curls covered most of one eye, and he definitely towered over most of everyone present minus Yamamoto.

“Huh, toys today are so realistic,” Yamamoto smiled with his vacant comment.

Lambo's eyes fell down to Tsuna and Ietsuna, and his face brightened to join I-Pin. “MASTER! TSUNA-NII!”

“Go away, I was here first!” Future I-Pin rounded on Lambo.

“That's... the stupid cow? I-Pin's a girl?!” Gokudera looked disturbed, by which piece of news was still unclear.

“Master?” Ietsuna looked a bit taken aback at the honorific.

“You've certainly changed, Lambo Bovino,” Reborn commented, his face devoid of expression.

Lambo shrugged, letting go of the twins. “You're paying attention to those below you now, Reborn?”

Reborn looked down at the disassembled gun in his hand that he was polishing. Silently, he continued polishing.

“Stupidera, your face is going to stick,” the future Lambo teased before turning back to Ietsuna with a fond smile. “Oh, I can't say much about the future, Master.”

“Ie-nii,” the future I-Pin smiled. “Oh, I'm so glad I'm not on my part-time job yet! Kawahira-san is always complaining about the soggy noodles in his ramen.”

“Her Japanese is perfect,” Gokudera lampshaded.

“Why do you call me that?” “Ie became a hitman?” Two twins, very different reactions.

“So the Ten Year Bazooka somehow manages to track anyone who enters it by their world line through four-dimensional spacetime.” Ietsuna sighed, yawning. “That's quite a targeting system.”

“...yes,” Lambo smiled, still uneasy. “I think I can surprise you, and your past self frightens me. I can't win like this.”

“If I am your teacher in the future, it stands to reason that the you as you are cannot beat me now,” Ietsuna pointed out. “I'm still surprised that you survived.”

“It's thanks to you that the crybaby me lived,” Lambo's arms shook with effort. “You're not alone. You're not alone. You're not alone.”

“Why do you repeat that?” Ietsuna asked him.

“ _..._ sometimes, even the greatest hitman in the world needs some help,” Lambo replied, the utmost seriousness and sincerity written on his face as pink smoke began to envelop him. “So... so...”

With a burst of smoke, the future I-Pin and Lambo disappeared, replaced with their chibi confused selves. Green eyes blinked, and Lambo started to cling onto Ietsuna's leg.

“How was your visit to the future?” Reborn asked.

“I- It was night!” Lambo started crying, with I-Pin starting to join in. “I couldn't see anything! It was scary!”

Ietsuna patted the curly head with horns. “So there's a time difference as well...”

Reborn was not satisfied by the reply, but left it at that, since the dark look Ietsuna was throwing at everyone except Tsuna and the kids was rather reminiscent of Hibari's anti-crowding look.

* * *

“Ie! Let her go!”

Tsuna's frantic reaction to the following scene on the next day, was revealed to be the steel tip of a palette knife planted very close to the girl's jugular. The knife was held by Ietsuna, who looked bored and with amber eyes alight with hidden malice.

“Do you always hit people you don't know?” Ietsuna continued to ignore the tension, simply staring at the brown-haired girl, Miura Haru, who had made friends with Reborn and proceed to attempt to slap Tsuna because of a misunderstanding. The situation had rapidly devolved from there. “I'm not angry. Why did you do that?”

“B- Because babies are a- angels w- with p- pure h-hearts...” Haru struggled in fear, but stopped as the blade dug deeper. “Let go!”

“That uniform... Midori Middle,” Ietsuna assessed, pulling out his cellphone. “I'm calling this in. Hibari might have something to say.”

Even despite her school being in a different neighbourhood and of a different education strata, the name of Namimori's demon prefect was enough to cause a panic. “W- What?”

“You just tried to attack the general affairs manager of the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee,” Ietsuna indicated the red armband as he continued typing. “Plus, since you know Reborn, we can probably assume that you're a stalker.”

“Mafiosi should be gentle towards women and children,” Reborn counselled before Ietsuna would blow this whole thing out of proportion.

“He's right, Ie,” Tsuna continued to freak. “You should get off Miura-san! And put that down, Hibari-san would just make things worse!”

“Why? That sounds like age and gender discrimination,” Ietsuna replied, a touch surprised. Especially since the knife was still there.

“No, it's disproportionate retribution,” Tsuna reasoned. “B- Besides, as the general affairs manager, I process everything. So... you can let go now, Ie.”

Scoffing, Ietsuna let go of her arm and got back up, pocketing his cellphone. “...fine.”

“I'm so sorry for Ie,” Tsuna bowed deeply to her. “My twin brother is always jumping in against bullies, so... sorry!”

“That brother of yours must be pure evil ~desu,” Haru circled him, arms crossed. “Haru thinks that you're nice, though.”

“Tsuna is the nice one,” Reborn butted in. “Ietsuna is the evil twin.”

“Reborn! Ietsuna isn't evil, he's... overprotective.” Actually, Tsuna thought, that title fell to Gokudera. Ietsuna was more inclined to be _laissez-faire_ until something happened to Tsuna right in front of him, at which Ietsuna intervened. Brutally.

“Haru thinks you're cool, standing up to that scary killer!” Haru continued. “Haru will see you around! Bye, Tsuna-san, Reborn-chan!”

“...strange,” Tsuna rubbed his cheek and wiped a bead of sweat off his face. “Ietsuna isn't usually this hair-trigger. I just hope that nothing happens...”

“Does Ietsuna have homicidal tendencies?” Reborn asked.

Tsuna's face morphed into one of worry. “Erm...”

The silence stretched, and Tsuna turned to walk to school with Reborn following silently. Tsuna remained silent until the lunch hour, at which the tutor and student duo shared a bento and watched Ietsuna run rings around Hibari from a few storeys up.

“...when we were six, I was always bullied,” Tsuna reflected. “At studies or sports, I failed. Everyone called me Dame-Tsuna, No-Good Tsuna... Ietsuna is good at sports and studies, but he always protected me from bullies. I worried for him, but he always promised to protect me. One day, I caught him digging holes in the playground. I didn't know what they were for, until I saw him lure one of my bullies in. The spot was far from the playground, so no one heard his cries for help. He couldn't climb out. “Wait, I'll get help,” Ietsuna said as he walked away, and the boy's cries became weaker. “He needs help,” Ietsuna told me. “We should find a teacher,” I said. “If you like, Tsuna,” he said, and he walked away.”

Reborn remained silent, patiently waiting.

“The boy was already crying, and I realised... Ietsuna was really going to leave him like that,” Tsuna's voice shook. “I... there was no teacher around, and no one would listen to me, Dame-Tsuna. Ietsuna just gave me a rope and told me... “As you wish, Tsuna.” I... tied a rope to a tree, and threw it down, and I made sure that the boy got out. He moved after that, because his house burned down.”

“Was it Ietsuna?” Reborn demanded.

“I... I don't know,” his shoulders matched his voice. “It's my fault. I- If I could have been stronger... if I just stood for myself... if I taught him better... Ie wouldn't resort to such methods. I could stop him. People won't die because of me. One time... one time, Kaa-san accidentally called me Dame-Tsuna... I don't know what he said, but his words hurt Kaa-san, and Kaa-san just took it all until I stopped him. She broke down... she had to go to the hospital. I told him to apologise, and he said... he said... “Why? I'm right.””

“So, when you intervened in the duel against Gokudera... you were making sure that your brother doesn't kill him,” Reborn pronounced. “And, Haru...”

“W- Watch the h- house,” Tsuna hiccoughed. “H- He knows the a- address n- now.”

Reborn kept an active scout around the Miura residence at night. He increased surveillance on the twins, especially Ietsuna. When Moretti the Murdered dropped in, and tried to show off the _Addio_ skill, Reborn saved the mafioso from being dismembered just in time for Ietsuna to bring out the bone saw. Thus, one month was spent like this, Tsuna grew slightly more proficient in using the Dying Will Bullets – sadly, without enforced streaking in boxers – and Ietsuna remained as essentially unkillable by fist, blade, bullet, poison or explosive.

* * *

“Japan's labour laws might have something to say about your part-time jobs, Tsuna and Ietsuna,” Reborn commented two weeks after another blow-up on the thirteenth of October.

“Well, I learn some things at the nail salon to perform hand maintenance,” Tsuna smiled. “It's really helped!”

“You got a problem with working reception at a gym, Reborn?” Ietsuna drawled.

“You're both fourteen,” Reborn pointed out lamely as they reached the porch of the house. “How did you manage to convince the proprietors?”

“Hibari/Hibari-san.”

The door opened, and Tsuna barely held back Ietsuna's reflex kick, unfortunately bowling him in over the pop of champagne poppers.

“Happy birthday!” everyone announced.

“Thank you,” Reborn spoke up. “I appreciate that you guys gathered for me today. I'm one year old now.”

“...happy birthday, Reborn,” was Ietsuna's flat reply, in contrast to Tsuna's “That was it?!”

“Tenth/Tsuna!” came the twin exclamations.

“Gege!” I-Pin called. “Broccoli monster mean!”

“Haa, tail-head!”

“Lambo, that's rude.”

Nana, I-Pin, Lambo, Bianchi, Gokudera and Yamamoto had been expected; Haru had not been, but Tsuna smiled and greeted her, and made sure that Ietsuna did the same. “It's fine, Ie. Today is Reborn's birthday, so it must be... festive.”

“Thank you,” Reborn's eyes twinkled as he curled one sideburn. “Why don't we start the Vongolian birthday game?”

Everyone looked at each other. “Huh?”

“Each of you will compete for points awarded by the birthday boy with a 'present' or 'performance' before we eat cake and open presents,” Reborn elaborated. “It's a time filler. The participant with the highest score earns an elegant present.”

“...and the lowest score?” Gokudera asked with trepidation, though whether from his proximity to his sister or to the prospect of losing was debatable.

“The one with the lowest score will die.”

“No way!!” Tsuna screamed.

“Since Yamamoto brought the sushi, he gets eighty points,” Reborn placed a Yamamoto sticker onto a fancy gold-filigree scoreboard.

“Since Reborn-chan is always wearing black, I've made a white suit,” Haru pulled out her creation. “It's target-patterned.”

Tsuna clapped a hand on his twin's shoulder. “He'll be targeted too easily!”

“I like these kinds of thrilling clothing,”Reborn accepted it. “Eighty-five points.”

“I'm next,” Bianchi smiled. “I'm celebrating Reborn's birthday with genuine Italian pizza tossing.”

After half the room got sliced, Bianchi walked out with ninety points to bake the pizza, Ietsuna's glare directed at her back.

With Lambo as her assistant, I-Pin displayed her Gyoza Fist, sending the young hitman careening around, netting her eighty points as well. Gokudera showed off his talent of replacing dynamite with sparklers.

“Nothing blew up,” Reborn commented. “Sixty points.”

“N- No...”

“Mama did the cooking as well, so Mama get ninety points,” Reborn added.

“Oh, my! Reborn-chan!”

“I'll go next,” Ietsuna produced his pencils and paper. “With my eyes, I'll predict how you'll look twenty years in the future, Reborn.”

“Hmph,” Reborn dismissed as furious sketching filled the room. “Is Tsuna next?”

“I have to do it too?!” Tsuna exclaimed. “I haven't heard about this until today, how can I have prepared?! Lambo probably didn't prepare anything either.”

“That's not true!” Lambo pouted, bringing up a chopstick with hair glued on it.

“One point.”

“ _Gyupaa_!” Lambo started, falling down in shock.

Reborn levelled his gun at Tsuna. “It's your turn, Tsuna. If you forfeit, you die with zero points.”

“Tsu-kun, good luck!” Nana smiled.

“You can always do _that_ , right?” Ietsuna teased.

Nearly everyone sat up. Some special talent or embarrassment? It sent a mass signal through, like predators scenting blood in the wind.

“...fine,” Tsuna got up before Ietsuna could make a break for the chopsticks. Footsteps trooped up the stairs to his room, and more fumbling sounded. It was a while before Tsuna descended back down the steps, and then the clatter of chopsticks on the table was heard. Multiple chopsticks.

“T- Tsuna-san...” Haru gaped.

“T- I'm sorry for having impure thoughts, Tenth!” Gokudera slammed his head onto the table. A collective wince showed how painful it was.

“W- Wow,” Yamamoto looked elsewhere and his gaze was directed down. “Y- You... look like Kirika. Really.”

Tsuna glanced down at the pink shoes, pulling the skirt. “Y- You don't think it's overdone?”

“Tsuna-san makes such a beautiful girl!” Haru leapt to her feet. “Haru is shocked!”

“If you're just cross-dressing, it'll require more than that schoolgirl look to impress me,” Reborn stonily commented. Despite that, watching Tsuna fiddle with the dark blue sailor uniform, Reborn very desperately tried to look elsewhere and not at his gender-challenged student and not make it obvious.

“I'll be singing,” Tsuna pouted, stance straight and defiant. “ _A cappella_ , the song 'Canta Per Me' from the animé _Noir_ , composed by Yuuki Kajiura2.”

“Oh? Music would be good,” Reborn smirked. “I've heard all the choirs of Italy, after all.”

“Erm...” Tsuna fidgeted. “Ie, I need... the narration.”

“What? Fine,” Ietsuna coughed. “ _Le noir... ce mot désigne depuis une époque lointaine le nom du destin. Les deux vierges règnent sur la mort. Les mains noires protègent la paix des nouveaux-nés 3._”

Reborn snorted at the trite narration; animé was beneath him-

Then Tsuna opened his mouth.

   
 _Canta per me addio,_  
 _Quel dolce suono..._  
 _de’ passati giorni,_  
 _Mi sempre rammenta..._  
 _La vita dell’amore,_  
 _Dilette del cor mio..._  
 _O felice, tu anima mia,_  
 _Canta addagio…  
 _

... _Madre di Dio_ , animé was _good_. The experience was a lot like being clubbed upside the head with Orpheus, or an angel from heaven, or a saint praying to God with hands clasped and halo of orange forming... and Reborn should probably stop himself right there. Just because one student could sing in Italian was no indication of talent, no matter how good it sounded in his head.

If there had been any mistakes, no one were picking on them just yet.

  
_Tempra la cetra e canta,_   
_Il inno di morte..._   
_A noi si schiude il ciel,_   
_Volano al raggio..._

_La vita dell’amore,_   
_Dilette del cor mio,_   
_O felice, tu anima mia,_   
_Canta addio..._

_La vita dell’amore,_  
 _O dilette del cor mio…_  
 

The room had fallen silent, and Tsuna shrugged, the orange halo seemingly disappeared from his general demeanour. The angel of music was replaced with a rather petite sailor-uniform-wearing cross-dresser.

Reborn was the first to recover his voice. “...You get one hundred points.”

“As expected of the Tenth!” Gokudera cheered.

“T- That was awesome, Tsuna!” Yamamoto cheered.

Ietsuna smirked as he handed over the completed sketch. Reborn grudgingly gave him ninety-five points; Ietsuna had gotten sideburns too prominently. The party wound down after that.

The twins were getting ready for bed when Ietsuna handed his twin a book. “Happy birthday, Tsuna.”

“Ah, this is...”

“Your present, obviously,” Ietsuna sighed. “It's a painting book, made by yours truly. There's only one of it in this world, so treasure it.”

“I will!” Tsuna opened the clam-shaped book, admiring the rainbow pattern of the first page made of canvas in impasto. “This is so cool! But, I don't have a present...”

“Your happiness is enough, Tsuna,” Ie smiled.

Tsuna looked at his earnest brother, and felt the effort of having cobbled the meaningful paintings collected within together, years and years of oil on canvas collected within. “Happy birthday, Ie.”

Up on the roof, Reborn stared towards the heavens, which was clear in the October night. Stars spilled out across the night, and faintly Reborn traced the Gemini constellation with one finger. Leon shivered, curling close to its master, absently closing its eyes to fall asleep.

“Happy birthday, to the greatest hitman in the world,” Reborn commented. “I've been the greatest hitman for fourteen years since you died, Lorenzo.”

_** ** _

* * *

_**1 Babel Fish should still be around in 2004, which I assume to be the starting year that the manga is set in.** _

2 _**Since this was released in 2001, it's entirely plausible that Tsuna would have seen the animé. Also, I've cited everything in-story!**_

_**3 ' Black. It is the name of an ancient fate: two maidens who govern death; the peace of the newly-born their black hands protect.'**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The closest approximation that matches my imagination (just in case)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TvVL1RNgCoM) I like it, so I'm sharing it with you guys. I find this video pretty inspiring, so please give him your support!
> 
> Please review!


	7. Folio 6: Pietra dura

“Gokudera-kun, have you been around Namimori?”

Since the question was posed from one Sawada Tsunayoshi to one Gokudera Hayato, the effect was the silver-haired delinquent leaping like he'd received a beckoning call from God. “N- No, Tenth! That is a grave oversight on my part!”

“No, that's alright,” Tsuna smiled. “Today I needed to go to town anyway, so I could show you some of the sights- oh, but you must be busy-”

“I'm absolutely not!” Gokudera declared loudly. “For the Tenth, I have all the time in the world!”

“I'm glad,” Tsuna turned to the table behind his. “Ie, about tonight...”

“I need to stock up on paints,” Ietsuna replied airily. “I'll be following you to the art supplies shop, and no further. I'll settle my own dinner, so you and Gokudera go on your two-man excursion into Namimori and explore the sights. We'll meet up in the evening.”

“Yamamoto-kun is busy with his baseball practice as well...” Tsuna mused. “So it'll be just the three of us, Gokudera-kun.”

Gokudera threw up, causing a mad scramble to drag furniture out of the way.

“G- Gokudera-kun?! Are you alright?!”

“I t- threw u- up out of happiness...” came the answering burble.

“You have something to do in the evening?”

Tsuna gave a critical eye to the desk which Reborn just popped out of. “ When did you modify my desk?!”

“Focus, Dame-Tsuna,” Reborn shot back. “What do you have in the evening?”

“Ie and I have to clean an altar,” Tsuna defended. “Today is Grandpa's death anniversary.”

“I didn't hear about this, Tsuna, Ietsuna,” Reborn shot back as Gokudera started bowing and scraping at interrupting this hallowed day.

“Kaa-san doesn't talk about him much,” Ietsuna spoke up. “He's our paternal grandfather, and it sounded like he would've moved in with us if he was alive. If he was alive, we'd see that shitty father of ours a lot less too, since that shitty father sounded terrified of Grandpa.”

“Sounds like a demonic in-law,” Reborn commented. “What's his name?”

“Sawada Ietsuna, Senior,” Ietsuna leant back onto his chair. “That's where I got my name from. Our hospital caught fire on the day of our birth, and Grandpa died saving us from the newborn ward, so...” a shrug. “It's the least we can do.”

“Hold on...” Gokudera paled. “If Tenth's grandfather died on the day of your birth – that is, today – then today is...”

“...oh, you're right,” Ietsuna smirked openly. “ _Today_ is our fourteenth birthday. That hag forgot our birthday again...”

“Ie!” Tsuna was restraining Gokudera from slamming his head anymore. “Don't add on! Yamamoto-kun, help me!”

“Oh?” Yamamoto stared at the scene before him. “What's going on?”

“I have no excuse for forgetting the Tenth's birthday!” Gokudera yelled. “I have not prepared a present. Instead, please accept a pinky finger!”

“ _You don't need to mutilate your hands, Gokudera-kun!_ ”

* * *

More misinformation, and something left out altogether. At least, Reborn reflected, the twins had a bit of piety and Ietsuna was not, apparently, totally with a brother complex. Some investigation into that fire would be needed; if one of the Sawada family had died into it, it also meant that one of Primo's direct descendants had died there. Either way, it was not pressing, unlike what he'd done to call Dino over.

The twins' meeting with Dino did _not_ go well. At all. Reborn had forgotten to factor in the Disciplinary Committee's presence – or just wanted to troll the  Chiavarone boss's coterie. The twins came back home to see a gangland war on their doorstep. It took the form of several besuited men in dark suits, against the Disciplinary Committee's main force, led by Hibari himself.

So far, if the grunts and the scattering of dark-suited men on the ground was any indication, the Disciplinary Committee was winning.

“What is going on?!” Tsuna demanded.

“Home invasion?” was Ietsuna's acid reply, walking and dodging a body tossed by Hibari, which hit a stone wall. “Yo, guys.”

“Ietsuna-san! Sawada-hime!” a few snapped quick salutes, jumping back into the fray just as quickly.

“Stop that name!” Tsuna hollered back, clutching onto the hem of his skirt. “Home invasion? This is my house!”

“Herbivores, you're crowding,” Hibari's battle snarl echoed as the twins walked to their front porch and inside, up to their room.

“Oh, Tsu-kun, Na-kun,” Nana smiled in greeting. “Welcome back. You have a guest in your atelier.”

“We're back,” Ietsuna took off his shoes. “Isn't there something else you should say, Kaa-san?”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I- It's nothing,” Tsuna tried to intervene.

“Che,” Ietsuna scoffed, allowing himself to be pushed past Nana and up the stairs.

“We've been waiting for you, Tsuna, Ietsuna.” Reborn chirped as a welcome. The canvases and easels had been pushed to the walls, and a black armchair took pride of place, back currently faced towards them.

“How did that armchair get in our room?” Ietsuna asked, instead of Tsuna's “We're back.”

“Yo, Vongola Boss,” a voice drifted into the conversation, as the chair turned to reveal a man with shaggy blond hair, punk-casual getup and a few tattoos. “I travelled from afar to pay you a visit. I'm the Chiavarone Family's Tenth boss, Dino.”

A flicker of emotion passed in his eyes as he laid them on the twins. “There are two of them? Well, the guy is the most likely candidate... but I'm so glad there's such a pretty girl amongst Reborn's students.”

Illuminated by the light of the afternoon sun drifting in from the window, Tsuna gave an awkwardly breathtaking smile.

“...This must be fate,” Dino declared.

Reborn kicked him in the head. “Useless Dino. I called you from Italy to introduce yourself, not get distracted by a pretty face.”

“I- I'm a guy,” Tsuna confessed, causing Dino's smile to drop. “I'm Tsunayoshi, please call me Tsuna. This is my brother, Ietsuna.”

“Your eyes suck.” Ietsuna chipped in.

“Ie!” Tsuna scolded.

“Boss!” the two suited men in the room screamed as their boss collapsed. “Pull yourself together!”

“He got the bridge dropped on him,” Ietsuna dissuaded. “Reborn, who are these guys?”

“Dino is your senior apprentice,” Reborn answered. “I taught him how to be a Mafia boss before I came here. His capabilities before I came were zero, like you two.”

“Well, I'm sure most Mafia bosses don't immediately look for an Adam's apple,” Ietsuna noted, immediately heading for the window and throwing it open. “Oi, Hibari! The cause of the crowding is in our room.”

The local demon prefect launched himself through, tonfas drawn, and barely paid attention to anyone past the blond man. “I'll bite you to death.”

Dino had barely drawn his whip before chaos was launched.

“Oh,” Nana poked her head in to see the pile of bruises that was currently Dino facing off against Hibari. “Hibari-kun, was it? Today we're having hamburger steak, so will you be staying for dinner?”

An absent kick delivered, Hibari smirked. “Thank you for the offer, Sawada Nana.”

“Mamma will be fine, Hibari-kun,” Nana twirled around. “If only Tsu-kun had been born a girl...”

“K- Kaa-san!” Tsuna sputtered.

“Oh?” Something cracked underfoot. “What happened to Dino-kun?”

“H- Hand...” Dino wheezed.

“Oh! Sorry!” Nana stepped off his hand. “Are you alright?”

“Gēgē, nǐmén hǎo!” I-Pin greeted as she chased Lambo into the room.

“Tsuna-nii! Ie-nii!” Lambo cheered back. “Catch!”

Hibari caught the grenade instead, but his eyes met I-Pin's. I-Pin blushed, and nine dots began to appear on her forehead. The girl began to leap for the window.

“Oh, this is bad,” Reborn airily added. “Dino's men and the Disciplinary Committee are still out there.”

“ _Merda_!” Dino took a running jump for the window, swinging his whip to throw I-Pin up. The Pinzu Timed Super Explosion detonated a distance in the air, a chrysanthemum of fire blooming and sending I-Pin flying out.

“I-Pin!” Tsuna yelled, racing for the window but tripping and flying out somehow. He caught I-Pin, but his scream caught the attention of the gangland war. He snatched I-Pin out of the air. I-Pin stared at him with wide eyes. She latched onto his arm, whimpering in fear, as they fell down. Tsuna shut his eyes.

Arms grabbed him, and a spin found Tsuna clutching onto a white buttoned shirt. Opening one eye, he peeked at Hibari's irritated expression. Tsuna looked around, bewildered, and realized that Hibari had caught him, and was now holding him and I-Pin bridal-style. “Safe... H- Hibari- I'm sorry for troubling you, Hibari-san!”

The dark-haired prefect remained silent for a few moments, hefting Tsuna. He motioned for I-Pin to get off, the Chinese assassin complying. A few more shifts, before... “You've lost weight.”

“T- Thank you very much, Hibari-san!” Tsuna loudly replied as Hibari set him back onto the ground, blushing madly.

Ignored by the two of them, the Mafia men were now laughing with affection and being glared at by the Disciplinary Committee.

“That's our Boss!”

“Always keeps us on our toes!”

“Sorry, guys!” Dino grinned, but was set upon by an irate Hibari with flashing eyes of anger and tonfas wielded expertly and red armband.

“Who are you?” the prefect demanded.

“The leader of the home invaders, Dino-sempai,” Ietsuna started, with a big grin on his face as he leant on a support pillar at the porch. “So, Hibari, you're here for the birthday party?”

The glare was replaced by a blank look, one that exactly matched Dino's slack-jawed face.

“After all, it's our birthday today,” Ietsuna laid the final nail. “Signor Chiavarone is here for the party on Reborn's request, but he seems to have forgotten the present.”

“...that is against the rules,” Hibari now looked delighted at the excuse, eyeing down Reborn. The prefect had never really forgotten the attempted invasion of the Reception Room that Reborn had masterminded, which had merited a week of hamburger steaks from Tsuna to pacify him from turning the school upside down.

“Exactly,” Ietsuna agreed. “There's a good spot to fight just around the school. I'm sure you'll be satisfied, Hibari. Horse meat is, I'm told, _delicious_.”

“ _Today's_ your birthday, Ietsuna!?” Dino looked a bit green, whether at the prospect of a Vongola birthday party or at the faux pas of not bringing a present.

“I feel a bit offended, but I'm sure my opinions don't matter,” Ietsuna continued in his falsely sweet drawl. “It's just that my cute twin brother is also neglected, and I can't stand that, Signor.”

“This is bad,” Reborn spoke from the sidelines. “At this rate the Vongola-Chiavarone alliance might be destroyed just from the diplomatic tensions alone.”

“I- It's fine, Ie!” Tsuna intervened, and Dino beheld him as one would a ministering angel. “Dino-san didn't know anything. And, he's our sempai, so we shouldn't demand so much since we're in his care.”

“Tsuna...!!!” Dino was nearly crying in relief.

“Information gathering is a basic skill,” Ietsuna parroted Reborn's words right back with a grin. “Isn't that right, Reborn? So, for not finding out the heir's birthday, what is the appropriate punishment?”

“...he's right, Useless Dino,” Reborn muttered, giving Dino a kick.

“Geh! Why'd you kick me?!” Dino complained.

“Your screw-ups reflect on me, Useless Dino.” Reborn growled. It would've been cute if this was not also currently the world's strongest hitman.

“Oh, I just thought of a good solution~!” Ietsuna clapped his hands. Somehow, despite that Tsuna and he were twins, they seemed to be mirror images of each other; the demon to one angel.

* * *

“That was Bucking Horse Dino, right?” Gokudera commented as he followed Tsuna, now in civilian clothes, towards the town centre.

“Y- Yeah... he got blackmailed by Ie to buy paint supplies,” Tsuna murmured. “It's not even Dino-san's fault that he didn't know it was my birthday...”

“The shitty Bucking Horse cannot be forgiven!!” Gokudera's yell drew a few stares from milling people, and more than one pointing child whose mothers quickly dragged them away.

“G- Gokudera-kun!”

“It's more than just forgetting the present,” Gokudera lowered his voice, but continued the explanation. “Bucking Horse is the boss of the third-strongest Family in the alliance. Not knowing that both potential heirs have their birthday on this day smacks of not only not paying attention, but also gives Vongola a bad reputation. Indirectly, his own reputation at house management is damaged, though he solved the financial crisis left behind by his predecessor.”

“So Dino-san is good at management as well...” Tsuna noted. “But that sounds unreasonable, especially since Ie and I didn't expect to be chosen. Neither of us even know who exactly would be the Tenth, and neither of us were involved in that world to start with...”

“That's just the rule of the Mafia,” Gokudera snorted. “The Tenth's twin was well within rights. Especially since that Bucking Horse also disrespected the Tenth...!!”

“Erm... actually, that's what I wanted to know as well,” Tsuna paused in the middle of showing Gokudera the main street of Namimori, the town between the sea and the forest. “Ie and I... either one of us could be the Tenth, right?”

“No,” Gokudera shook his head.

“H- How could you say that?” Tsuna asked.

“I...” Gokudera mulled over it. “I might be presumptuous, but I get the feeling that Tenth's Nii-sama wants you to be safe, above all. When he tried to kill me, when he ate Aneki's Poison Cooking knowingly, and when he blackmailed the Bucking Horse... it was for your sake. Although I approve of the last one, since I don't like the Bucking Horse.”

“W- Why?”

“All older guys are my enemy.”

“That's a huge range...”

Namimori had been built as a straightforward port village that grew into a small town, complete with police post, post office, markets, business districts and its underlying suburbs and the infrastructure and housings that followed middle-sized cities. Gokudera absorbed part of it, but most of his attention was on that _Tenth is showing me around- it's just Tenth and I around town -there's no one around -_ _Tenth is beautiful-_

Why that last sentence was there, was anyone's guess.

“This is the local shrine,” Tsuna pointed towards the shrine after the pair had climbed about a kilometre of stairs uphill, panting slightly. “It's a bit late, but that's the heart of Namimori. This is also where I was supposed to meet Ie.”

“Actually, Tenth... why did you invite me out?” Gokudera asked. “If you just wanted surveillance, you could have just given me a mission...”

“Oh, no,” Tsuna pouted. “It's... because we're friends, but I don't know if you're fitting into Namimori or if you're facing problems... and we barely meet each other outside of class. Actually, it's... I don't need a subordinate. I'd like to be your friend. If you'd let me.”

“Tenth...” Imaginary dog ears and tail flickered in the background, with added bishie sparkles as Gokudera's sea-green eyes peered into Tsuna's deep caramel orbs and found complete sincerity. “I... I actually have problems making the rent-”

“Tsuna?”

“Yamamoto?/Baseball idiot?” the two of them stared at the dark-haired man before a crash resounded and dust billowed from behind the shrine.

“Don't hold back!” Ietsuna's rally drew bellows of encouragement and complaints.

“W- What is going on?” Tsuna dashed, with Gokudera and Yamamoto trailing behind him, to the back of the shrine. “Yamamoto?”

“Oh, the baby tutor said that there's something interesting happening here!” Yamamoto brightly replied as they dashed to the back of the shrine.

Several craters were dug – or hammered – into the relatively dry flat ground by a well, Dino brandishing a whip against Hibari and his tonfas of mass destruction while Dino's men cheered for their boss with Ietsuna monitoring the book. “H- Hibari-san! Dino-san!” Tsuna exclaimed. “Ie, what are you doing?!”

“Dino vs Hibari,” Ietsuna replied, his expression severe. Beside him was a bouquet of chrysanthemums and a bunch of incense. “I'm setting up a book. Hibari might be a 'frog in the well', to quote Dino-sempai, so Dino-sempai should make up for it by training Namimori's protector. Gokudera and Yamamoto are here too?”

“Gambling is against the rules, Sawada Ietsuna,” Hibari growled, chest heaving.

“When you call me your senior, I feel terrified,” Dino quipped. “I'll have you repay that ¥1,000,000 tab!”

“Ie, that's unreasonable!” Tsuna accused.

“Reborn said it was fine,” Ietsuna smiled benevolently at his brother. “I also got new shoes from Maître!”

“Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Hibari purred. “Perhaps you would like to join in as well.”

“N- No-”

“Might be a good chance to assess your strength,” Dino mused.

“Don't worry, Tenth!” Gokudera produced dynamites out of thin air.

“This looks fun,” Yamamoto grinned. “So, we're fighting Hibari?”

“Hmph, even though you're maintaining the hegemony of Namimori as well... I'll bite you all to death.”

Tsuna whimpered as Hibari loomed, tonfas drawn.

“Don't worry, Tsuna! I'll...” Dino paused as he was stopped by a loading revolver sound. “Reborn?”

A click resounded from Ietsuna's spot, where he had his phone out. “For the memories,” he commented, moving to avoid being shot.

“I seriously hate camera phones right now...” Reborn muttered under his breath, loading another magazine to aim at Tsuna. “You're the only sane man around, Tsuna.”

“Reborn-”

Ietsuna leapt towards Tsuna, but found a whip trailing for him and catching him on the arm. “What-?”

“Reborn said to hold you back-” Dino gaped as the whip was sliced through with a sharpening knife. “What the hell?”

With one movement, the knife was flung at Reborn, who moved to watch the blade sink into the tree behind him. “That was close, Ietsuna.”

“Today is supposed to be our grandpa's death anniversary,” Ietsuna commented, no longer smiling and very much calm in the face of three killer intents. “It's time to go, Tsuna.”

“Y- Yes, Ie...” Tsuna gave a deep bow. “S- Sorry, Hibari-san! Actually, we're supposed to... visit our grandfather now. It's his death anniversary today.”

“...I see,” Hibari put away his tonfas. “Filial piety to be admired, even towards the dead. Tomorrow you owe me two fights, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“Ah,” Dino muttered, bull-whip still dangling in his hands as the groups and Hibari left him and his men with the Spartan tutor. “I just- what just happened?”

“It's not your fault, Dino,” Reborn intervened, in a rare show of tutor authority. “Their birthday is also the death anniversary of their grandfather. I'm surprised. I always thought Iemitsu was too stupid to have been born naturally.”

“Reborn, that's a bit cruel...”

“Tsuna?” Yamamoto mouthed as the twins headed away from the shrine and to the accompanying cemetery.

“Sato... Sawano... Sawada,” Ietsuna commented as they approached one of the family plots1. He set down the bouquet with a small vase prepared, pulling out a bottle and one of the chrysanthemums. “We're back again, Grandpa.”

“Tenth's twin must be very close...” Gokudera murmured.

“No,” Tsuna dissuaded him. “We never knew our grandfather. But, Grandpa died rescuing us when the hospital caught fire. So, even though it's not Obon2, it's only proper to pay respects to him. Ie, why did you pull out one flower?”

“Someone else needs to be remembered,” Ietsuna walked six plots away, standing in front of one suspiciously well-maintained grave to set it forward.

  
沢田 家康  
1865-19153  
  


“He died young,” Ietsuna remarked. “Well, it's to be expected...”

“Look!” Tsuna pointed at the stone, scraping at the dirt to get a better read, albeit with plenty of care towards the old grave marker. “There's more text, beside the spouse's name... _Romaji_?”

“Oh, you're right!” Gokudera tilted his head. “Giotto... that's an Italian name... why would Tenth's ancestors have Italian on their grave markers?”

“Isn't that obvious?” Ietsuna asked him, tracing the text.

  
ジョット   
_N_ _on nobis solum nati sumus ortusque nostri partem patria vindicat, partem amici._

“ _Jo- to_?” Tsuna read.

“ _Giotto_ , Tenth,” Gokudera corrected.

“But, why would an Italian name be on an old Japanese grave?” Yamamoto questioned.

“This is the grave of the First Vongola,” Ietsuna delivered dispassionately. “Our ancestor.”

“T- The Great Sky, Vongola Primo?” Gokudera looked ready to faint.

“He set up the basis of the Vongola Family, but he's cremated like anyone else,” Ietsuna commented, as the light of the setting sun fell over the cemetery. “We don't know where he came from or when he came to Japan, but from what Reborn said, he was defeated and he came here, presumably around the Reformation. He died here, a _gaijin 4,_ burnt and buried and laid to rest away from his homeland and family. I guess he's just bones now.”

“...” Tsuna suddenly smiled, and plucked another yellow blossom. “These flowers are for mourning. It's surprising, Ie, that you'd be so considerate to bring exactly twelve chrysanthemums.”

“So this is your ancestor, Tsuna, Ietsuna?” Yamamoto looked touched. “How exciting! Let's help clean his grave, Gokudera!”

“You don't need to say something so obvious, baseball-idiot!”

“This is the fate that awaits the Vongola Tenth,” Ietsuna meditated as the boys set about to clean the stray vines from the marker. “It's a sad, cruel and lonely path. No sane person would choose it.”

* * *

“Today I cleaned the grave of Ieyasu-jiisan with Ie, Gokudera-kun, and Yamamoto-kun,” Tsuna dutifully recited the evening's events. “You can put the gun away now, Reborn.”

“Primo's grave?” Reborn nearly dropped the semi-automatic. “It's still here?”

“Who's Primo?”

“The Vongola First Boss, Dame-Tsuna,” Reborn fretted. “Where? If his DNA was stolen-”

“But that's impossible,” Tsuna pointed out.

“I said,” Reborn ignored him, “That blood is the rule of the Mafia. If anyone managed to locate his grave, they can use the marrow in his bones-”

“It's impossible, Reborn,” Tsuna patiently replied, “because he was cremated nearly a hundred years ago.”

“... good job anyway,” Reborn mutinously commented.

“Is the body of the First so important?” Tsuna asked.

“Vongola Primo had the power of Hyper Intuition,” Reborn explained. “A power to see all.”

“There was something weird on his grave,” Tsuna commented, as Ietsuna entered the room. “Ie, do you have the rubbing?”

“It's in the atelier,” Ietsuna rubbed behind his ears with a towel, blowing at a wet lock of hair slapped on his forehead.

“OK,” Tsuna walked out, leaving his twin and Reborn to stare at each other in silence until he returned.

“This is Latin,” Reborn answered upon reading the rubbed text. “It's from Cicero. ' _We are not born, we do not live for ourselves alone; our country, our friends, have a share in us.'_ ”

“How do I say it... it feels like Ieyasu-jiisan admired Cicero,” Tsuna commented lightly.

Reborn thought to the age-old well-thumbed _In Verrum 5_, the century-old edition in the original Latin, which had somehow survived the years nestled beside the chemical-stained collection of papers retrieved before 221B Baker Street had been transformed into a museum. How _did_ the Hyper Intuition worked sometimes, he wondered.

* * *

_**Please review!** _

_**1 A typical Japanese grave is usually a family grave (** _ _**墓** _ _**haka?) consisting of a stone monument, with a place for flowers, incense, and water in front of the monument and a chamber or crypt underneath for the ashes.** _

2  _ **Memorial services depend on local customs.**_ _ **T**_ _ **here is a memorial service on the Obon festival in**_ _ **honour**_ _ **of the dead. The festival may be held in the 1st year, sometimes in the 3rd and 5th, 7th and 13th years, and a number of times afterwards up to either the 39th or the 50th year. One popular sequence follows the days of the Thirteen Buddhas.**_

_**3 Wikipedia says that the Vongola  Famiglia was set up around 170 years ahead of the storyline (c. 1834) by Giotto. Now, seeing the Sawada branch of the family tree: Ieyasu (Giotto) – Yoshimune – Yoshinobu – Ietsuna – Iemitsu – Tsunayoshi, that's a five-generation span, which works to around 125 years total. Assuming that Tsuna was born in 1990 given that the manga started in 2004 allows us to count that Iemitsu was born in 1965, Ietsuna in 1940, Yoshinobu in 1915, Yoshimune in 1890, which puts Giotto's birth year at 1865 or slightly earlier in order to maintain the 25-year average. Which also matches up with the Meiji Reformation of 1864 and increased foreign presence in Japan, because prior to 1864 Japan was practising isolation and the only foreign presence was the Dutch at Deshima in Nagasaki.** _

_**4 ** _ _**外人** _ _**; a Japanese word that refers to foreigners and non-Japanese. Since Ietsuna feels pissed off at Giotto for basically inviting this mess upon the Sawada twins, it carries a negative connotation that Ietsuna is deliberately conflating with the Vongola Primo.** _

_**5 Cicero served as  quaestor (public accountant) in western Sicily in 75 BC and demonstrated honesty and integrity in his dealings with the inhabitants. As a result, the grateful Sicilians asked Cicero to prosecute Gaius Verres, a governor of Sicily, who had badly plundered the province. ** _ **In Verrum** **_is Cicero's court speeches against Verres and his lawyer, who was considered the greatest orator in Rome at the time. Cicero won. A full-blooded Sicilian like Giotto has every reason to admire the ancient orator, especially in the Italian Unification era (if my headcanon is right)._ **


	8. Folio 7: Gesso

“I'm telling you, Kozato-san, I haven't made anything worth selling yet,” Ietsuna was on the phone the next morning, pacing up and down the dining room. “Yes... no. No, I don't need it.”

“Who's Kozato?” Reborn asked Tsuna.

“Oh, that's Ie's agent,” Tsuna smiled. “Well, there was a mess of circumstances that led to us discovering that someone disguised himself as our dad to kill Kozato-san. Ie was all for framing Dad until I convinced him otherwise and ran in to stop him. By which I mean fling myself into the danger first, and Ie followed me. Things worked out.”

Reborn thought back a bit. That bit of news had not been discovered by the CEDEF investigators of the Flood of Blood Incident. “I see.”

“Yeah. That's it... right. I'll call if I need to sell a piece. Thanks. Good morning to you too. Yes, Enma called just last week... I need to get another phone? You're paying, Kozato-san. Bye.” Ietsuna clicked his phone shut.

“Is Kozato-san looking for another piece to sell?” Tsuna asked him from the table.

“More or less,” Ietsuna yawned slightly as he considered his toast and bit into it. “I hate genre paintings. I wanted to send him a _capriccio_.”

“What happened?”

“It turned into cow-print Namimori,” Ietsuna replied flatly. “I gave the canvas to the children to make finger-paints with some old poster paints.”

“You paint?” Dino stared at the twin. “Well enough to sell? You... don't look the type.”

“I wear protective clothing,” Ietsuna replied, still staring at his lunch before getting up. “Well, I'm going out, Kaa-san, Dino-sempai, Reborn. Tsuna, tell Hibari I'm not going to school today. He'll know where I am.”

“Oh... right...” Tsuna frowned as Ie left, before turning his head to Reborn. Lambo spat out some hot soup, and Nana started to fuss over him as I-Pin picked on the child hitman.

“You know,” Tsuna commented. “I've noticed that you don't like Ie that much.”

“Do you know the 'Maître' Ietsuna was referring to?” Reborn asked Dino, ignoring Tsuna.

“Maître... ah, the painting supplies woman,” Dino nodded, paling. “It's the _Mauviette_.”

“Huh?” Tsuna blinked.

“Tsuna, your brother's been taking _savate_ lessons from a retired hitwoman,” Reborn revealed.

“Oh, so that's what Alouette-san was doing before she moved here,” Tsuna commented. “I was surprised. She never really leaves her shop or the attached gym. I thought it was because her husband died in France and she followed her daughter to Japan because she wanted to return to Asia, or so she said...”

“How do you know her?” Dino asked cautiously, looking sideways at Reborn.

“We knew her through Hibari-san. Ie cooks and cleans in exchange for instruction,” Tsuna began to clean up.

“Hibari- you mean that prefect yesterday?” Dino twitched.

“Ah, yes,” Tsuna nodded. “Alouette-san is Hibari-san's grandmother.”

“...Maître is a male title,” Reborn noted, since Dino looked a bit too stunned.

Dino winced as Tsuna closed his eyes. “Well... Alouette-san cross-dresses. She's been doing that since her son disappeared.”

Reborn's eyes were shadowed by his fedora. “...Did she say when?”

“Erm... no,” Tsuna considered. “It's a sensitive topic, apparently...”

Reborn was still thinking when Tsuna brought up the subject of Gokudera's impending home-stay into the Sawada home to Nana. The result was predictable.

“I'm leaving!” Tsuna jogged out of the house, before stopping.

“ _Buon giorno_ , Vongola,” Romario greeted, the leader of a horde of Mafiosi.

“Er, good morning,” Tsuna stuttered. “If this is about Dino-sempai...”

“Why are you guys here?” Dino sighed as he walked out, showing off his multiple tattoos. “I didn't ask for a pick-up.”

“No one's here to pick you up, Boss,” Romario smirked. “We just happened to end up here after we wandered around. The other Vongola got the pompadour kids off our backs.”

“Ie walked through here?” Tsuna blinked.

“From the hotel in front of the station, eh?” Dino drawled.

Tsuna hid a laugh. “Dino-sempai is really liked by his subordinates... I wish I could get that kind of respect with the Disciplinary Committee.”

“The Regent-style squad that attacked us, right?” Dino looked confused. “But they respect you. They gave you a salute and everything...”

“Ah, it's because of Hibari-san...” Tsuna mumbled. “I cook enough for his lunch and dinner and I go over to clean his house once a week. Sometimes I get to save them from being bitten to death!”

 _I see..._ Dino kept the smile on his face. _Compared to that Hibari Kyoya, anyone would look like a saint..._

“And then they keep calling me a princess, even though I don't cross-dress that often- Dino-sempai?”

“Boss, pull yourself together!” Romario executed a dive to rescue his fainting boss. “It's not the end of the world!”

“Good morning, Tenth!” Gokudera greeted when Tsuna walked out of the house.

“Gokudera-kun?”

“I woke up early, and as I wandered around I just happened to end up here,” Gokudera unabashedly gave the same excuse as the Chiavarone button-men. “The Tenth's twin isn't with you?”

“Ie has training, or something,” Tsuna replied. “Say, I asked Kaa-san, and we've got a few spare rooms, so if you'd like to move in with us it's alright.”

“T- Tenth...” Gokudera blushed to the roots of his silver hair. “I- I couldn't possibly...”

“Tsuna-san!” Haru ran up to them. “I wandered around until I ended up here too! To see you without that evil twin around, Haru is so lucky~!”

“Morning, Sawada!”

“Good morning, Sasagawa-sempai,” Tsuna side-stepped the charging senior who passed by them with a wave.

“Morning!” Yamamoto waved. “What are you guys doing?”

“Yo, Smoking Bomb,” Dino waved.

“Bronco...!”

“Well, we're going to be late, so let's go,” Tsuna intercepted Gokudera before the silver-haired hitman could launch himself. “Anyway, we're leaving!”

“Oh...”

“Haru will come part of the way with you!”

“What do you think?” Reborn asked the boss.

“They're still kids,” Dino mused.

“Looks like you're interested,” Reborn commented.

“I guess.”

“Do they look worth it?”

Dino shrugged. “The most important part of a Family is trust. That trust definitely exists between the twins themselves, Hibari Kyoya, and Smoking Bomb.”

Reborn smirked. “Finally, I can use the Dying Will Bullets on Tsuna.”

“Eh?” Dino asked.

“Ietsuna can't use the Dying Will Bullet, but he can use the Zero Point Breakthrough,” Reborn confessed. “Yes, it's an odd quirk. He ended up protecting his twin from my bullets.”

“That evil twin can use such a legendary technique?” Dino's eyes were widened to comical proportions. “ _Salva_ _ci_!”

Reborn shot at him. “Idiot Dino.”

“Yeah, I got the idea,” Dino was still leaning on one side. “The Mauviette trained him, and he can use Zero Point... he'll be an incredible anti-Mafia fighter. What's the verdict?”

“Iemitsu believes that Ietsuna's existence is draining on Tsuna,” Reborn explained. “He thinks that Ietsuna is a... parasite to be killed. My bullets, Bianchi's Poison Cooking, even the Gyoza Fist failed to have any effect.”

“He'll have to be a human with no sense of taste, smell or touch,” Dino listed incredulously. “How does anyone fight against an opponent like that? I'm surprised you haven't thrown in the towel yet.”

“...why do you say he has no sense of touch?” Reborn asked him.

“Why- your bullets _hurt_ , Reborn,” Dino answered bluntly and honestly, still staring towards the distance. “If the kid constantly throws himself in front of them, he's either pretty stupid or he has no sense of physical pain.”

“...if you want to test them, do it now,” Reborn decided. “I have to visit a retired lark.”

* * *

“Don't forget to steep the gloves! Your equipment is the most important!”

“I got it!” Ietsuna's parting yell signalled Reborn's chance to approach it.

The shop was in Namimori's sleepiest part of Main Street. It was a shop-house, an individual piece of building that looked more permanent than the whole street, as if the street had been built up around the two-storey building. The front was glass, and the words « _Ciel Art Supplies_ _»_ made prominent in black letters. It might be innocuous, but Reborn approached it with the utmost respect.

Reborn opened the door, and a bell tinkled overhead. The air conditioning wafted in, cold and with a mild scent of plaster.

“We're closed,” came the muffled voice over the counter.

“I'm not a customer, Madame Lei.”

She poked her head over the counter. White feathery streaks lined in her feathery blonde hair, and hard grey eyes narrowed at him from their setting in a face lined with age. She was a handsome woman, and Reborn held no shame in admitting it, despite that fifty-year age difference physically, or the twenty-thirty year difference in reality.

While the concept of dynasties might have died out in high politics, democracy never really caught on. After all, the Mafia was still organised loosely as _coscas_ or _famiglias_. After all, most crime families – unlike the Vongola, only by necessity – were not exactly organised by blood ties, though they were a bonus. Some of the upper echelons, though, managed to propagate by family, such that it might be fair to call them dynasties. The famous – or infamous – Alaude still haunted the criminal underworld at large, especially since his sprog managed to survive two world wars and travel to Asia. One of the current Arcobaleno came from this family.

“I'm out of _cidre_ ,” was the woman's first statement upon laying eyes on Reborn. “Not that you could drink it.”

“If you want it to be, Madame Lei,” Reborn walked in as she stepped aside, the blonde woman closing the door of Ciel Painting Supplies. She locked it, and flipped the sign to Closed. She wore a white cotton tee and jeans that ended in hard rubber soles.

“ _C'est une surpris_ _e_ ,” she commented. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No. I didn't expect youto be living in Namimori,” Reborn gravely replied as he followed her lead into the shop-house apartment and into the small kitchen. He settled on the counter and watched her bustle about. “You're still very respected in our circles, Madame Lei. I heard the sad news about your son.”

“...Fēng was too good,” she reflected sadly, bustling to prepare coffee. “He inherited everything from Papi; that drive, that free spirit... I hope, wherever he is, he's happy. _Mes excuses, j'ai oublié mes manières._ _Comment vous vous appelez?_ ”

“I am Reborn,” Reborn imparted with all manner of seriousness. “And... your son... I knew your son.”

“...he's dead.” She caught on.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“...oh,” she stated, grey eyes flickering to the coffee maker as it dripped black liquid down. “...I'm sorry, but my grandson might be dropping in soon. You know how it is, an old woman can't live alone. My disciple is a useless idiot but he cooks and cleans, and he has spirit. His twin though... it's sad that he wasn't born a girl, I was hoping that someone would drag the child from his shell. Is there something I can help you with, Monsieur Reborn?”

“I am actually the home tutor for your... disciple, and his twin,” Reborn imparted seriously. “I did not know who taught him combat-grade savate, but you are... well, you are the Mauviette, madame. I have only just realised that my... colleague... the family resemblance is uncanny.”

“Ah, yes,” she agreed, the grey softening to a pearl sheen. “ _Mon petit-fils_ , he looks just like Papi except with black hair. Acts like his great-great-grandfather too, if my memory is not faulty. I am flattered that one of the World's Strongest Seven would visit me to tell me about my son... what _was_ my son doing? That idiot boy...”

“Madame Lei,” Reborn replied. “... I am sorry. I cannot tell you anything. In fact, I was hoping that you could tell me something. Ietsuna... and Tsuna. If you could tell me something about them, it would be much appreciated.”

The older woman looked doubtful. “About Kyoya's friends?”

“About the Sawada twins,” Reborn pressed. “ _Omérta_ stills holds over you, Madame Lei. The boys are candidates for Vongola Decimo.”

“... _quelle surprise_ ,” she commented, watching the coffee dispenser in her hand carefully as she poured out the mugs. “I was at Enrico's christening. _Il y a bien longtemps_... _il est mort_ _?_ ”

“And Massimo, and Frederico,” Reborn added.

“Poor Timoteo,” Alouette's expression twisted at the common courtesy with a moue of distaste. “They had _family_ in Japan, and it's those two... Ietsuna fights like his grandfather, that I can say. Talented with the knives. Perhaps seeing his old friend in the grandson might ease the pain in Timoteo's heart.”

“The late Sawada Ietsuna?” Reborn posed. “Their grandfather knew Nono?”

Alouette Lei1 simpered. The wrinkles curving into laugh lines that outlined her resemblance to the Hibari family as she poured out coffee. The grand-daughter of the first CEDEF head, and now grandmother of Namimori's demon prefect, simply sipped coffee and stared at Reborn. “Such a skilled fighter, and what a hero. Even _you_ must have known him in his era, Arcobaleno. He was known as _Il_ _Magnifico_ 2, because he took on a European name for his sojourn in _l'Europe_. Talented man, and devoted to his family too.”

“...Lorenzo was Nono's first Lightning Guardian,” Reborn scowled. “It's not exactly relevant at this stage, but it would explain why the man retired forty years ago. That stupid Iemitsu... he never said _anything_.”

“You don't _say_ things like that,” Alouette dismissed. “You fight, you fly, and when you leave that world, you forget. You cut off all ties and hope that your past never comes back to haunt you. To be forgotten is the necessity to escape the underworld. I doubt the idiot himself knew. I knew only because we've crossed shoes, savateur and savateuse.”

“Nono must have known,” Reborn reasoned.

“Well, I'm just a doddering old woman talking to a baby hitman,” Alouette commented lightly, head still turned to the door. “ _Si c'est tout?_ ”

“The replacement Lightning Guardian is Ganauche,” Reborn imparted. “On Lorenzo's recommendation. You're going to continue teaching Ietsuna no matter what?”

“An old woman needs her hobbies,” Alouette yawned. “Do you have a problem... Monsieur?”

Old woman and baby glared at each other, but Reborn nodded. “That was all... but, Fēng is not dead. He is... delayed. But he is definitely alive.”

Glass cracked.

“... _Je vous remercie_ ,” Alouette murmured, leaning to pick up the glass shards of the coffee dispenser. “ _J'apprécierais que vous partiez maintenant, môme._ ”

“ _J'y vais, madame,_ ” Reborn answered with unusual gallantry for him. “ _Excusez-moi._ ”

He did not linger to hear if she broke down, instead moving to the arranged sniper's position to shoot Tsuna. In his experience, _les grandes dames_ were much stronger than expected. Daniela had not broken down where Timoteo had been quietly grieving. Luce had been stronger than expected when the Arcobaleno had been recovering from their curse. If anything, Reborn reflected as he shot Tsuna with a lot more bullets to make up for the dearth, Fon's mother was exactly like how Alaude's grand-daughter was expected to be. Right down to the animal nicknames.

He still resented being called a baby bird, though.

* * *

Reborn was almost prepared to slam his skull against a wall. Once.

The ten-bullet mark had been reached within the next two weeks, and Tsuna had gotten Skullitis as predicted. Shamal had not appreciated the bridge dropped onto him with the revelation of Tsuna's gender. Ietsuna had not appreciated the fatal nature of the disease. He made that displeasure known by kicking down walls, and meaningful glares towards the doctor's groin while ignoring any and all mosquitoes except to smash them.

Reborn counted; that was three hundred. So far three hundred fatal diseases had failed to take. Either Shamal was getting old, or Ietsuna was deader than dead, and still moving. Still, for the sake of the Shamal family jewels and the remnants of the 666 Trident Mosquitoes, Shamal capitulated pretty quickly. Not that it was hard...

“Your brother is pretty evil,” Shamal commented as the Angel Mosquito did its work and flew back to its master. Shamal had capitulated only after Tsuna had bodily tackled his own twin to keep the dark doctor from getting kicked in the gonads lethally.

“Sorry for forcing you, Shamal-sensei,” Tsuna gave a warm smile from his seat, perched on the sofa of the living room with the doctor and others.

“I'll treat you any time, cutie-chan~!” Perhaps bipolar behaviour ran in the Shamal family too...

Reborn interrupted. “Dame-Tsuna is a boy-”

“A dream!!!! THIS IS A DREAM!” Shamal shouted, eyes wide as he slammed his head into the nearest hard surface. “Morning, hurry up and come!”

Tsuna slapped him.

“Go, Gēgē!” I-Pin chirped next to Ietsuna.

“Nice slap, Tsuna,” Ietsuna leant on the frame of the door. One hand slapped out. There was a _crunch_. Shamal flinched. “Ah, that was _another_ mosquito. I'm so glad you're alive, Tsuna.”

“I'm sorry for worrying you, Ie,” Tsuna walked over to hug him, which meant that the twin's glare towards Shamal and Reborn went unseen by him. “Please don't get angry towards Shamal-sensei anymore. He only treats women, after all.”

“If you died, I would feel nothing towards killing him,” Ietsuna grimly stated with every measure of fact. “I won't leave you alone in the underworld, Tsuna. Everyone will follow you.”

“That's scary... Shamal-sensei, will you be staying for coffee?”

“Yes, cutie-chan-” _Slap_.

“...that twin is a danger to everyone except his brother,” Shamal finally said once Tsuna had dragged Ietsuna away. He was cradling his cheek, which now bore a small hand-print. “What Flame is he?”

“No idea,” Reborn chipped in. “The Dying Will Bullet doesn't work, since Ietsuna constantly uses the Zero Point Breakthrough. Dino said that he must have no sense of pain, taste or smell.”

“Neither does my Mosquitoes,” Shamal considered. “His brother uses the Sky Flame, right?”

“Yes.” Reborn looked at him. “You have a theory about this matter?”

“The twins of the Sky... I was reminded of a legend,” Shamal mused. “The legend of Castor and Pollux. One was born as the mortal son of a king, and the other the immortal son of Zeus, but the brothers were devoted to each other. When Castor died, Pollux begged Zeus to allow Castor to share his immortality with him, or kill him. The twins share alternate days together in Olympus and Hades.”

“You're saying that Ietsuna's life depends on Tsuna's Dying Will Flames?” Reborn clarified.

There was a snort, and Shamal waved a hand. “It's impossible. The dead can't come back to life. Besides, what about the physical body? A dead body doesn't age, and Ietsuna is clearly a match for his twin. Besides, these are teenagers you're talking about. How would they know that the Dying Will Flames can do something like this?”

“ _Can_ they do something like this?” Reborn asked.

“Well, we know that red Flames breaks stuff, purple propagates, and yellow helps increase cellular activity,” Shamal listed. “And orange... orange turns other Flames to stone. Completely throws mass-energy equivalence out of the window, that factoid.3 What I do know is that the orange Flame maintains a state without contradiction nor flaws, in which the balance of the whole is maintained. One interpretation is that the orange Flame subjects the other colours to a given set of axioms implicitly assumed by the flow of the world. The other interpretation is that the orange Flame dictates a set of axioms by which the other Flames coexist.”

“The wide Sky that accepts all without question... but both interpretations are subjective,” Reborn noted. “What those interpretations imply is nothing less than rewriting reality.”

“You asked,” Shamal shrugged. “My answer is that, the orange Flame is a mysterious bugger, but it _seems_ possible. The question itself assumes that Ietsuna died, and... well, those poor walls around town can testify that the guy is alive and kicking!”

* * *

“...why is Tenth's twin banging his fists in the corner, Tenth?” Gokudera asked a few days later.

Since Gokudera was moving into the Sawada house, the three boys had been cleaning out the attic and a curious collection of Italian novels belonging to the twins' late grandfather. Tsuna had been dusting off a copy of _Foucault's Pendulum_ when the doorbell had rung. Tsuna had gone to answer it, there had been a few crashes and Ietsuna screaming, and thus the scene before everyone.

“We just accepted another kid into the house...” Tsuna confessed. “Gokudera-kun, meet Fuuta de la Stella.”

“I let my guard down!” Ietsuna was saying. “That's a bipedal sentient life form that reeks of science fiction! I wasn't expecting an alien from outer space! I thought this was a _shōnen_ comedy!”

“Ie, Fuuta is a normal human boy,” Tsuna sighed. “Just because things float and we can see stars in his eyes and he says things which are incredibly accurate doesn't mean he's an alien. Anyway, Fuuta said that this house must be one of the safest in Namimori for him.”

“For _him_ ,” Ietsuna muttered. “That claircognizance of his is going to get us all killed.”

Fuuta looked sad.

“What's Ranking Prince Fuuta doing here?” Gokudera asked.

“I was hoping for help from the Vongola Tenth,” Fuuta replied honestly.

“He's also known as Ranking Fuuta,” Reborn chipped in, appearing out of thin air as was his habit. “He's an information specialist who has no equal when creating a ranking. Fuuta's ranking accuracy is 100%. In short, if one were to use this book of rankings to create a strategy, he could win any battle, and it'd be easy to take over the world.”

“Unless the user of those rankings is an idiot,” Ietsuna argued. “A ranking is a relationship between a set of items such that, for any two items, the first is either 'ranked higher than', 'ranked lower than' or 'ranked equal to' the second. By reducing detailed measures to a sequence of ordinal numbers, rankings make it possible to evaluate complex information according to certain criteria. So, depending on the criteria set, certain information may disappear from the analysis and would not appear in the ranking, since analysis of data obtained by ranking commonly requires non-parametric statistics.”

“I forgot that Ie is very good at maths,” Tsuna smiled with gritted teeth. “I'm an idiot at maths, so could you simplify that?”

“For example... if we were to rank every house in Namimori according to safety, then this house is the safest for Fuuta alone,” Ietsuna explained. “However, it's not the safest for _us_. Rather, whoever is after the kid, is going to come after us. So, the point is that certain information falls through the cracks, which are not addressed in any rankings.”

“He came to us for help, Ie,” Tsuna sighed. “Would you throw this cute small animal into a field of ferocious predators?”

“If it's to protect you, I would throw every small animal in the district to them,” was the straightforward answer.

“I asked the wrong question...” Tsuna recovered. “You accepted Lambo and I-Pin. What's wrong with Fuuta?”

“His motives, for one,” Ietsuna groused. “His ability, for another.”

Fuuta tried to intervene. “Ie-nii is ranked number-”

“Would you like to rank the record time for cutting a tongue out? I can't guarantee that you'd be able to say it, though,” Ietsuna hissed, causing Fuuta to shut up.

“Ie! That's horrible, threatening a child like that,” Tsuna scolded, physically intervening between his twin and the boy. “Don't worry, Fuuta. You're safe here.”

“Tsuna-nii...” Fuuta heaved a sigh of relief.

“You're the worst,” Reborn stared at Ietsuna.

“Thank you.”

“It's not a compliment.”

Ietsuna was saved from rebutting by Lambo and I-Pin charging in.

“Lambo, I-Pin, just in time,” Tsuna smiled. “This is Fuuta, he'll be staying with us.” Turning to Fuuta, he added, “Don't worry. Ie is bad at the start, but that's because he worries since you're part of the Mafia and you have bad people after you.”

I-Pin hopped over to meet Fuuta."I-Pin glad to meet Fuuta.”

Fuuta smiled at the Chinese girl who accepted his hand. The smile disappeared when I-Pin dragged him to Ietsuna and placed his hand in the other's.

“Who's that, Tail-head?!" Lambo yelled out loudly, not paying attention to anything.

“LAMBO RUDE! SHUT IT, BROCCOLI MONSTER!”

“MAKE ME, TAIL-HEAD!” Lambo stuck his tongue out.

“GYOZA FIST!” I-Pin's attack sent Lambo careening.

“GAAH! Ie-nii, help!”

“You deserve it.” But, Ietsuna still reached out to grab Lambo.

“This is a good chance to gain some rankings,” Reborn commented. “Fuuta, could you give us some?”

Fuuta nodded. Closing his eyes, objects around him were lifted off the ground in the next moment, including himself. When he opened his eyes, they looked distant and staring off into light years away, presumably. I-Pin and Lambo squealed as they started floating.

“There's a theory that he communicates with the Ranking Star in outer space,” Reborn commented, now in a spacesuit.

“I see,” Ietsuna nodded. “So the space-time curvature of the Earth becomes twisted in this communication, and the resulting tidal force presumably causes the local gravity of the Earth to become distorted and hence, things float around. I wonder if it can be weaponised.”

“Tenth's twin is awesome!” Gokudera praised.

“Physics is the basis for Surrealism,” Ietsuna replied.

“So, who goes first?” Reborn prompted.

“T- Tenth should go-”

“Gokudera Hayato... is ranked number one out of 82,203 to be good with kids.”

“What the hell?” Gokudera's curse prompted a disappointed look from Tsuna.

“I-Pin's Pinzu Timed Super Explosion is ranked thirty-eighth out of 816 most powerful attacks.”

“That technique is powerful after all...”

“When it comes to mid-range fighting techniques, the Gyoza Fist ranks at 116th out of 520 effective attacks. With things as they are, I-Pin ranks third out of 52,262 people for the potential of becoming a promising assassin.”

“And Lambo-san?” Lambo demanded eagerly. “Lambo-san's ranking?”

“Lambo ranks the most annoying out of all Mafioso by far.”

“ _Gyupaa_!” Lambo started.

“He's also number one when it comes to people wanting to kill you and use you for a seat cushion.”

“What's with that ranking...?” Tsuna muttered as Lambo swam for Ietsuna and clung to his arm and crying.

“Reborn is ranked as the number one hitman,” Fuuta declared.

“Hmph, as expected,” Reborn scoffed.

“Number one threat to come to Namimori in the next six months?” Ietsuna tonelessly questioned.

“Number one is... Rokudo Mukuro.”

“...looks like that ranking is useful for something after all,” Ietsuna murmured in satisfaction in the ensuing silence. “Number one reason for his attack.”

“... to find the Vongola Family.”

“Number one strategy.”

“To use... me...” The table dropped, nearly everything collapsed, and Fuuta began to cry.

“Oh, good job,” Ietsuna nodded as everything else dropped.

“Ie! You just made his cry!” Tsuna protested with a thumps.

“It's all good,” Ietsuna shrugged. “What we mean by 'right now' is a mysterious thing which we cannot define and we cannot affect, but it can affect us later, or we could have affected it if we had done something far enough in the past. People tell us they can know the future, but actually there is no one who can even tell us the present. With this knowledge, the price is fulfilled.”

“...So, you'll protect him,” Tsuna translated as Fuuta slowly became quiet.

“I- Ie-nii... is ranked number one _Kuudere_ big brother,” Fuuta sniffed.

“K- _Kuudere_...? I'm totally serious about cutting your tongue out,” Ietsuna twitched. “In fact, let's re-enact _Titus Andronicus_ -”

“That's enough, Ie!” Tsuna admonished, but then the canvas fell, and Fuuta blinked. The twins started laughing, with everyone soon following.

The joke was explained when Ietsuna gave Fuuta red paint and let him loose on the fallen cow-print Namimori canvas, which now looked like a mess of blue and black. This was how Fuuta got accepted into the Sawada house; embraced by the sky and shrouded by the night, while I-Pin and Lambo made potato stamps on him.

* * *

_**1 I needed an explanation for why Ietsuna knew savate.** _

 

 

 

_**I also intended to link Alaude, Hibari, and Fon's creepy resemblance to each other. My head-canon is that Alaude was born in Monaco and worked with the French Sûreté, and that was how he got involved with the Vongola. He reproduced, and his bloodline resulted in Alouette. Then, during the post-WW2 Chinese diaspora, Alouette got married to a guy named Léi (** _ _**雷** _ _**) and gave birth to Léi Fēng (** _ _**雷风** _ _**) and Léi Yǔ(** _ _**雷雨** _ _**). They moved to Hong Kong, where Fēng mysteriously disappeared – he was turned into a baby, but didn't dare go home. Then Yǔ met a guy named Hibari, they got married, and the in-law moved in. Something ugly may or may not have happened, but the herbivorous father got out of the picture, leaving Hibari Kyoya.** _

_**2 This pseudonym is based on Lorenzo de' Medici, who really is called by this name. He is perhaps best known for his contribution to the art world, sponsoring artists such as Botticelli and Michelangelo. His life coincided with the mature phase of Italian Renaissance and his death coincided with the end of the Golden Age of Florence.** _

3 _**Refers to E=mc** _ _**2** _ _**.** _ _**Again, this rests on the assumption that Flame research was already being carried out,** _ _**and was only kept secret because of the Vongola** _ _**and CEDEF** _ _**'s efforts.** _ _**Since Basil and Iemitsu can used Hyper Dying Will Mode, it's a safe assumption that** _ _**they'd try to figure out why are there different colours of Flame, and if these are useful** _ _**in battle** _ _**.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 17 March 2015. I forgot the conditionnel présent


	9. Folio 8: Veduta

Over the next month, Hibari Kyoya's temper was rising in direct proportion to how many Disciplinary Committee members ended up in the hospital. Unbeknownst to the rest of Namimori Middle, so was Sawada Ietsuna's temper.

“ _Bâtarde de merde_...”

“Curses from the old carnivore will not be tolerated, Sawada Ietsuna.” Hibari was crabby today, and it showed.

Kusakabe sidled up to the general affairs desk. “S- Sawada-san, please hand this to Hibari-san...”

“Kusakabe-san, please don't leave me alone...” Tsuna pleaded, glancing towards the Ietsuna who looked like a banked snowstorm, against the slowly stewing Hibari. “Are the injured alright?”

“They'll make it,” Kusakabe assured. “I'm more worried about Kyo-san and Ietsuna-san. You've been cross-dressing more?”

“I've been practically mandated to cross-dress,” Tsuna glumly murmured as he read through another report, legs firmly crossed despite the tights he wore underneath. “It doesn't look like they're attacking women, so Hibari-san and Ie are practically using this sexist mindset of the attackers to keep me out. Ie, what do you make of these watches that were planted there?”

“I already knew of them before you told me,” Ietsuna snapped. “I'm sorry,” he apologised immediately.

“It's alright, Ie,” Tsuna pondered. “What do you think?”

“This is a mischief with no meaning,” Hibari mused. “Of course, sparks that have been ignited must be extinguished with great care.”

“You mean great prejudice,” Ietsuna corrected.

“Hn,” Hibari sipped his tea, and blinked. “What is this?”

“ _Kōcha_ , Hibari-san,” Tsuna answered with a smile. “Autumn is coming, and Hibari-san is stepping up on patrols, so I thought that a stronger tea might be needed to keep Hibari-san alert in the cold. I even prepared two Thermoses so that Hibari-san wouldn't feel odd carrying them around.”

“...it needs sugar.”

“Yes, Hibari-san,” Tsuna smiled. Maybe there were flowers or _something_. “I'll bring some fruits over to the hospital later for those injured guys as well.”

Hibari actually lifted his head from the map of Namimori and the adjoining Kokuyo Town to stare at Tsuna. Tsuna blinked, fiddling with the neat little blood-red tie around his neck against the crisp white button-down shirt with navy blue vest, with the red arm-band pinned to the left sleeve. The black skirt that ended at mid-thigh to expose black tights and brogues completed the illusion. “No. Those weaklings don't deserve your attention.”

“More like he's afraid of the Nightingale effect1 taking place,” Ietsuna chipped in, giving Tsuna a once-over. “It looks good on you, but why the tights?”

“B- Bianchi-san,” Tsuna swallowed. “Erm... she asked about Hibari-san, and I told her, and she got this strange look on her face.”

“Show us,” Ietsuna demanded.

“You're right,” he agreed once Tsuna showed them the face. “It's creepy. So that's how a _fujoshi_ looks like.”

“You're horrible,” Tsuna huffed. “Kaa-san too.”

“I'm going to the hospital again to see if the men can recall any other details, Kyo-san,” Kusakabe reported.

Hibari barely glanced up from the map. “Go, Tetsu.”

“Sawada-san, I'll need some help. Will you follow me?”

“Okay, Kusakabe-san,” Tsuna smiled as he stood up. It was only momentary until the glares of both the Disciplinary chair and the treasurer – AKA Ietsuna – sent chills down his spine.

“I just told him not to visit them... you have guts, Tetsu...”

“Well, Sawada-san, let's leave Kyo-san and Ietsuna-san to plan out the next raid on Kokuyo Junior High,” Kusakabe lightly offered, heaving a sigh of relief as the glares were directed back towards the delinquents.

“Yes...”

Maybe they were secretly grateful; Kusakabe was, after all, built like a brick house and could match one on some days, and the Committee's most delicate member – even more delicate than their part-time secretary – needed a backer. There had been unanimous agreement ever since the old carnivore kicked Hibari in the head and made comments about jail-bait and honey traps – _make sure he can wear white on the wedding, Kyoya-_

Nana had found the joke hilarious. None of the prefects had laughed.

* * *

“Gokudera? Keep an eye on the hospital, Tsuna just went there with Kusakabe. Bring Yamamoto along. Your concern doesn't matter, Tsuna's safety is number one. That's all.”

“It's always been about the little animal when it comes to you, Sawada Ietsuna,” Hibari commented as Ietsuna hung up and put away his cellphone. “He'll need to bare his fangs one day.”

“At this stage, if he does, he can't stop,” Ietsuna replied, rolling up his sleeves. “You might not agree with me, but I believe that in time, Tsuna is capable of miracles. Until he reaches that stage, though, I am willing to stand between him and this beautiful and cruel world, even between him and you, Hibari Kyoya.”

Hibari regarded him. It looked like how a falcon might regard an equal, or a hawk might regard a lumbering wolf; with condescension, and a touch of respect. There was a desk between them, and if not for it, there would have been a fight. “I have no idea if you are trying to tempt me, or if you are trying to bribe me.”

“...eh?”

There was a meaningful licking of the chops, followed by a glance towards the still-warm cup of red tea on the desk.

“No...” A finger was jabbed at him. “Hell no. No. I thought you were married to the _school_! That's why I even let Tsuna anywhere near you alone!”

“There is a difference,” said the prefect, “between territory and a mate. Even the old carnivore found him acceptable.”

“You're a guy,” Ietsuna pointed out feebly.

“No one can restrain me with logic.”

“Before that, can we plan out this raid on Kokuyo Junior High?”

“We will go and bite the herbivores to death,” Hibari concluded. It sounded like the start and end of his strategy, for those who had not heard the details in between 'go to Kokuyo' and 'bite the herbivores to death'.

While those two details would have been enough for Hibari, Ietsuna had carried an expression that suggested otherwise. “Give me some time, you shitty prefect. For the sky to remain between the land and the sea,2 night must fall. Only then will the sky's reappearance be all the more beautiful.”

“You mean, you want to make sure that your brother is at home at that time.”

“...”

Hibari looked towards the Sawada twin with new eyes. “Do you have a brother complex?”

“-.-* I don't want to hear that from you, fetish-pervert.”

“Keep him close to your shell if you want, clam. Bivalves are easily hunted.”

“Yeah, I'll keep him away from you, black swan. Say...” Ietsuna looked disturbed. “If you're a black swan and I'm a clam, then what's Tsuna?”

“ _Ovis aries_ has attracted much attention due to the fact that some rams seem to have an exclusive homosexual orientation.”

“You're calling him a _sheep_?! Tsuna hasn't even called himself gay... yet.” Ietsuna still pictured the fluffy white coat and the curly ram-horns that Tsuna would wear as a sheep 3.

“How does that matter?” Hibari smugly pronounced. “Sawada Tsunayoshi became mine the moment your Art Club was annexed into the Disciplinary Committee. The old carnivore approves. The other carnivore approves, and she has yet to meet the little animal. The _further_ implications are a plebeian matter as far as I am concerned.”

“...if you can protect your property, I won't have any complaint,” Ietsuna finally admitted as he got up. “But, Tsuna's not property. Remember that, Hibari. I'm going to get some more weapons now.”

“...Hn.” Hibari glared as the door slammed.

Ietsuna marched out, red armband ensuring that no crowds formed around him. Some students even gave him a bow, though more than one was under the impression that he was Tsuna, if the attempts to cop a feel was any indication. A few crushed fingers had solved the problem, though Ietsuna walked out of the school and down towards Namimori's main street.

“Ie-nii, play with me!” Lambo cried out, bouncing up to the twin.

“Lambo be good!” I-Pin ran up to them. “Gēgē busy!”

“Lambo, I have weapons to pick up,” Ietsuna sighed. “Tsuna's not safe yet. There are bad people after Namimori's students.”

“Ie-nii...” Lambo pouted.

“I have a hundred kilos of artillery to transport and use,” Ietsuna persuaded. “Aren't you guys supposed to stay with Kaa-san?”

“No!” Lambo cried. “Tsuna-nii and Ie-nii need protection!”

“It's our job,” Ietsuna persuaded. “This is to protect Kaa-san and Tsuna too. Lambo is too young.”

“Lambo-san can transport the weapons!” Lambo cried. “Lambo-san... Lambo-san can help Ie-nii move weapons!”

“I-Pin can help too!” At Ietsuna's look, she added, “Fuuta need help!”

Ietsuna stared at them. “...you have to be good, then.”

* * *

“Are we pathetic?”

Kusakabe blinked at the question that came from one of the hospitalised Committee members. “Why, Sato?”

“Well... Sawada-hime is a boy, and yet we want him-”

Sato didn't get far before Kusakabe's meaty hands descended very hard onto his shoulders. “Don't. Even. Think. About. It. The peace is far more important.”

“Y- Yes... does he have a girlfriend, Kusakabe-san...?”

“Kyo-san scares them all away,” Kusakabe sighed.

“It's surprising,” Tsuna commented once they left the ward, the boxes of _bento_ cleaner than when they first entered the ward. “The men seem a bit... terrified.”

“I hate to say it, but they weren't even good fighters,” Kusakabe replied to distract the smaller boy from the longing looks that lingered. “Even though all three of them were together at once, they were put in the hospital. They were probably terrified of Kyo-san's opinion.” _Is Sawada a pet? Or a cleaner fish? I want to ask, but I’ll probably be bitten to death..._ “I can't stop Kyo-san, or make him do anything.”

“Which is basically saying that Hibari-san is going to fight them,” Tsuna sighed. “I don't know if sewing a tracking device into his shirts is a good idea.”

“Why do you have tracking devices?!” Kusakabe started.

“Eh? Hibari-san stocks them when he needs to track down his 'prey',” Tsuna made little quotation signs, nearly dropping the pile of boxes. “And then you keep complaining that Hibari-san does his own thing without telling anyone, so Ie handed me those tracking chips and told me to sew them all into Hibari-san's shirts... is that not good?”

“W- When did you access Kyo-san's clothes, Sawada-san?”

“Oh, I do his laundry once a week- Kusakabe-san, are you alright? You look pale...”

“Status update from _mildly interesting pet_ to _wife_...”

“Oh, are you getting married? Congratulations!”

“N- No, Sawada-san...”

“Vice-Chair! Manager!” Another Regent-style delinquent member ran up. “Another one just got in! Sasagawa Ryohei...”

“Sasagawa-sempai?!”

“Yo, Sawada,” Ryohei greeted. He looked more like a mummy than a living being, and his legs were currently in traction.

“I just got the news that you were attacked,” Tsuna fretted. “Are you alright?!”

“It's a little pathetic, but he got me,” Ryohei commented.

“Why did this happen to Sasagawa-sempai?”

“How are you?” Kusakabe questioned, level-headed in contrast to Tsuna.

“I got a few broken bones,” Ryohei yawned. “Even though my guard was down, he's a fearsome man.”

“Eh? You saw the culprit?”

“Yeah,” Ryohei confirmed. “The uniforms are from Kokuyo Middle School from the next town over. Sawada, you be careful.”

“Middle-schoolers... and the watches too,” Kusakabe picked up the gold watch, clicking it open to reveal the hands stopped at six o'clock position. “Ietsuna-san was right.”

“Ie was right? About what?” Tsuna started.

“Ietsuna-san traced the serial numbers on the watches to a common shipment to Kokuyo, which was purchased on a mass scale from Proust Watches in Kokuyo,” Kusakabe replied. “Twenty watches, including this one, were bought by someone using cash from the proprietor. But, since the shipments were too delicate, the shipment was sent to a P.O. box near Kokuyo Land, where we lost track of it.”

“As expected of our Disciplinary Committee...” Ryohei chuckled. “But damn... I wanted that guy's punch in my club!”

“Give up,” Kusakabe rebutted. “He'll be bitten to death.”

“Yeah,” Ryohei sighed. “Changing the subject, I haven't honestly told Kyoko about this yet. She worries a lot, so please don't let this get out.”

“Onii-chan!” Namimori Middle's female idol Sasagawa Kyoko rushed in. “Why did you climb a bathhouse chimney?!”

“What did you tell her, Sasagawa-sempai...?” Tsuna sweat-dropped.

“Just nice, Sasagawa Kyoko,” Kusakabe intervened, putting on a stern façade. “For the crime of disturbing the peace, Sasagawa Ryohei has been administered punishment. Sasagawa Ryohei, take heed of your punishment and never do that again.”

“Y- OK,” Ryohei cottoned on, nodding enough to make him seem like a bobble head.

“I can't believe that Hibari-san!” Kyoko's complaint echoed in the ward. “But, I'm glad you're still alive...”

“Don't cry!” Ryohei grumbled.

“Kusakabe-san and Sawada-kun came to see him too?” Kyoko turned to them.

“Er... yeah!” Tsuna nodded as he got elbowed in the back.

“I'm so glad...” Kyoko smiled at them.

“I feel so bad for Hibari-san,” Tsuna complained as the two of them walked out. “Hibari-san might be invincible in combat, but there's no reason to blame him for everything!”

“Sasagawa begged us not to tell her exactly what happened,” Kusakabe replied. “Besides, I said that he had been punished, but I never said what for, or whom. Disturbing the peace is a general reason. The fact that our Disciplinary Committee must take the blame for this, is our responsibility. To be a man is to be responsible: to be ashamed of miseries you did not cause; to be proud of your comrades' victories; to be aware, when setting one stone, that you are building a world4.”

“Kusakabe-san is so cool... Almost like a big brother.” Tsuna nodded. “What is your secret?”

“Ietsuna-san told me that quote,” Kusakabe sheepishly confessed. “My secret...? Here is my secret. It is very simple. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.5”

“With the heart...” Tsuna nodded. “I understand, but I don't really get it...”

“That's alright, Sawada-san,” Kusakabe nodded, frowning as his cellphone beeped. “If you'd excuse me...”

“This is bad, Tsuna,” Tsuna jumped, but did not shriek at Reborn's sudden appearance. “Leon's tail fell off. This is ominous.”

“Do chameleons lose their tails? Besides that, why is Leon changing his shape?” Tsuna stared at the transition from fan to totem pole to hat and so on.

“Since Leon lost his tail, he can't control his shape.”

“Is it harmful to him?” Tsuna asked.

“No, he'll grow a new tail in time.”

“I see.”

Leon turned into a heart-shape at Tsuna's smile, but Reborn was watching a stone-faced Kusakabe walk towards them, determined.

“Sawada-san... Ietsuna-san and Hibari-san are on the move.”

“This is bad,” Reborn commented. “They aren't prepared to deal with them.”

“Sawada-san,” Kusakabe repeated.

Tsuna blinked, as if waking from a dream. “...I'll get the radar, Kusakabe-san. See you at the outskirts of Kokuyo.”

The Sawada house was strangely empty of any human presence. There was a note on the table explaining that Nana was out at the supermarket with Bianchi on an ingredient hunt. The children were not around, as evidenced by the lack of explosions or yells. Tsuna took no note of anything until Kusakabe had left him alone with Reborn, in their shared atelier surrounded by paintings.

“Right now, though, he's dealing with Rokudo Mukuro,” Reborn stated. “We don't know where is he. He could be dead.”

Tsuna got up, walking towards a cabinet to fish out a small hand-held radar. “ _You_ might not know where he is. _I_ do. I'm going out.”

“...don't you want to change clothes?” Reborn prompted.

“Eh?” Tsuna glanced down at his female uniform, frowning. “Right...”

“I'm back!” Nana chirped from downstairs. “Reborn-chan, Na-kun took I-Pin and Lambo for a walk, so it'll just be the three of us for dinner!”

Tutor and student exchanged looks. “You don't think...”

“He's very prepared for this,” Reborn agreed.

* * *

“Ten minutes have passed,” Ietsuna loaded the rocket. “Hibari is assumed dead, and we're now shooting at this building.”

“Ie-nii, that's cheating,” Lambo pointed out.

“They would feel nothing towards killing us. In this case, I don't believe in fair fights.”

The handheld radar was useful in tracking Hibari to Kokuyo Land. The guards; a blond with strange teeth, and a brunet with glasses, had been taken out courtesy of four Bovino-made concussion grenades and two boots to the head. Fuuta had been found, and now he lay guarded by the two child assassins.

“Be careful, for these things can blow your eardrums,” Ietsuna explained to the children, using Lambo's entire arsenal as he pocketed two handguns and a few magazines. “Lambo, I'm not actually sure if Reborn needs this much weaponry to be taken out, or if these are under-kill.”

Ietsuna shot two RPGs, which took out the façade, and now Ietsuna was loading another rocket. A fire alarm was ringing inside, and with it the hiss of old sprinklers, possibly filled with rank water from the old tank on the roof. Otherwise, the building had long been cut off from the water supply mains.

“Ie... nii...” Fuuta struggled. “I... didn't say anything...”

“ _Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité, dit le renard,_ _”_ Ietsuna replied. _“_ _Mais tu ne dois pas l’oublier. Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé 6._Tsuna accepted you into the house, so we have responsibility for you. I guessed that you were controlled, so I took the liberty of tying you up.”

“Yes...” Fuuta sniffed. “Thank you...”

“I believe you,” Ietsuna shot, watching the glass faces of the animal exhibit crash in a shower of glitter and the shock-waves of the explosion shake the ground. “The beast and the glasses were complaining about it.”

“Lambo-san wants to fire!” Lambo complained.

Wordlessly, Ietsuna reached inside his afro, pulled out the firing earplugs, and then set Lambo to fire the next RPG. “Yay! Thanks, Ie-nii!”

Ietsuna hefted a glass bottle, flinging it out after the explosion. The glass broke against the face wall of Kokuyo Land, its contents spilling out right as Ietsuna dug into the afro for another artillery gun. The bottle was soon followed by an M20 recoilless rocket launcher, painted pink.

“No fair! Lambo-san wanted to fire that one!”

“Your hands are too tiny,” Ietsuna pointed out.

“ _Gyupaa_!”

“Lambo be quiet!” I-Pin pointed.

“I-Pin, are you alright?” Ietsuna asked.

“I-Pin OK.”

“Good.”

Fuuta's eyes widened as the barrel was dropped. “W- What are you d- doing?!”

“I'm not a very good shot,” Ietsuna gave a benevolent smile which was technically, millimetre by millimetre, a copy of his brother's. The effect was ruined by the very large bazooka he was now aiming. “Luckily, Lambo had _really_ big bullets. Well, I'm going in now. Lambo, I-Pin, guard Fuuta and our prisoners. It'll be bad if they wake up.”

“Ie-nii is so cool!” Lambo had stars in his eyes.

“Lambo, give me a gun.”

“Y- Yes...” Lambo handed a small handgun. “Ie-nii... you'll come back, right?”

“This lucky charm will protect me,” Ietsuna replied, tucking the gun away before he picked up the bazooka once more. “Shut your ears.”

Fuuta had to clap hands over his ears to save them as the bazooka fired. In the wake of the smoke, as Ietsuna hefted a satchel up onto his back, grabbed a few canisters and walked in. “W- Who did I ask for help...?”

Fuuta crashed in disbelief. Or that was part of the gas mains.

At the ruined front of the building, Ietsuna threw in a smoke grenade first, and then headed in carefully and steadily, the jerry-can on one hand dripping steadily while he reached at his satchel for another glass bottle.

“ _Midori tanabiku namimori no..._ ”

He paused at the sudden song. “You're kidding... right?” Ietsuna headed for the basement entrance, frowning at the giant hole in the ceiling that cut through three stories, and kicked the pile of rubble. It got an answering thump.

“ _Fine_.”

The concrete block crashed aside with one kick.

“The building's going to burn in ten seconds,” Ietsuna knelt, administering an injection into the only man to like the Namimori Middle Anthem so much. “Get out by yourself. What the hell happened?”

“Hn.” Hibari snorted, moving slowly as a canary fluttered down to perch on his shoulder. “Crowding herbivores.”

“Which means you got jumped by more people,” Ietsuna nodded.

“Are you planning to die here, Sawada Ietsuna?” Hibari changed the subject.

“No,” Ietsuna drawled. “I can't let Tsuna fall into your pervert clutches.”

“Hn.” Grey eyes blanked and Hibari stumbled slightly in a puddle. “You're... you're crazy.”

“If we're in agreement,” Ietsuna waved. “There are two kids outside, they're with us. They're also guarding prisoners.”

“Hn. He uses illusions. If you're planning to set the building on fire, wait until I'm out.”

They parted ways. The bottle, and a few more like them, were flung to break as he passed a bowling alley, a run-down lobby and up the only intact staircase, where he flung the jerry can down and away. Then he threw the lighter down, and walked into the movie theatre.

“This is the first time we've met, Vongola the Tenth,” came the smooth purr from the darkness. “Kufufu... What have you brought me? A gift?”

Amber and heterochromic red-blue eyes stared at each other, lit by the orange flames from down the stairs. Ietsuna was the first to break the silence. “...eh.”

“...what's with that face?” Mukuro demanded, even though they were, you know, trapped in a burning building. One that just suffered through severe military-grade ordnance.

“I just got caught off by the mood whiplash again,” Ietsuna replied. “I didn't expect to find a pineapple fairy.”

Mukuro's expression skipped irritation and went straight to fury. “Damn you...!” Columns of magma erupted next to Ietsuna.

“Ah, that's going to set off- wait, they're already set off.”

Stale water sloshed around, the magma barely hissing as Ietsuna leapt forward. The orange light ceased slightly, as Ietsuna took off his satchel to fling it at Mukuro. Silver flashed as Mukuro cut the satchel, and Mukuro flinched as the two-litre bottle of water cascaded onto him, spilled all over his clothes.

Ietsuna went into guard, kicking with a _fouetté_ _bas_ _jambe a_ _vant_. There was a _crunch_ , and then a knife in Ietsuna's hand. Mukuro sliced down, and slid out of his frozen shoes and the lower halves of his trousers to dodge the palette knife and lash out with his trident, which Ietsuna skidded to avoid and still kick out at Mukuro.

“You set this place on fire to activate the sprinkler system. That ordnance just now was harassing fire to destroy the face,” Mukuro guessed, dodging the kick. “Which means... that you planned this, with that Hibari Kyoya. Namimori Middle School Class 1-A, number call 2, second on the Namimori Middle fighter rankings...”

“Namimori Middle School Disciplinary Committee Treasurer, Sawada Ietsuna,” Ietsuna quoted. “Of course, that's a fake ranking. Either Hibari destroyed you, or I destroy you after figuring out the total personnel strength.”

“The Ranking Prince... is always accurate,” Mukuro rebutted.

“Since it's all written in pencil, it's easy to rub out and replace the ranking,” Ietsuna commented. “You got fooled by such a trick? I expected more from the man who defeated Hibari. Wait, you jumped him. Hibari said so.”

“I have never thought that it would come to direct fighting,” Mukuro mused. “You're not very honourable for a mafioso.”

“I never said that I'm a mafioso,” Ietsuna observed, dodging a trident aimed at him while lotus vines tangled his feet and he collapsed to hands and knees.

“The First Path: Realm of Hell,” Mukuro advanced. “The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. Don't worry, I'll put your body to good use.”

“Oh? So, you're the type who thinks its better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven?” Ietsuna smirked as the building rocked with a sudden explosion, and thick smoke began to flood in before he shifted to a handstand and axe-kicked. “The building is burning, we're standing in smoke... I don't care what kind of monster you are, you have to get out eventually.”

“This is nothing,” Mukuro gloated in the increased gloom, voice hoarse from the effort of breathing. “I have memories of reincarnation through all six realms.”

Muzzle-fire caused him to dodge.

“I only care,” Ietsuna growled, “that you get out of _this_ world.”

Mukuro gasped as a large and heavy stick found itself across his shoulder blades, followed by a kick to one knee. Ietsuna emerged, holding a savate cane and prepared to brain Mukuro with it.

“Fourth Path: Realm of Asura,” Mukuro blocked the cane, lashing out with the blade towards Ietsuna, who dodged and backed into the shadow of smoke. “I can't see anything in this smoke... the same should apply for you, Sawada Ietsuna. How are you sensing me? Or, is this the famed Hyper Intuition at work? First Path: Realm of Hel-”

A knife stabbed into his middle, but Mukuro chose to grab the wrist and drive his own trident down to stab the thigh.

“Sixth Path-” The eagerness fled from his face. “No way...”

“ _Voici mon secret,_ ” Ietsuna grabbed onto Mukuro's chest, and frost began to form where his hands dug into Mukuro's T-shirt. “ _Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux. 7_”

“Let go!” Mukuro lashed out, the trident a glimmering silver in the dim orange light as crystals began to spread on it, and Mukuro himself.

“Don't worry... I'll freeze you into a perfect ice block and smash you.” Ietsuna smirked as he reached up to the flaming eye in Mukuro's face, and watched the flame turn into ice. “We'll see how you survive cryonics failure.”

“How... how did you grow a body?” Mukuro snarled as he began to pull up and stab Ietsuna through the face, prompting the shorter fighter to tear himself out of his shirt. “As you are... you're possessing a corpse! You're _dead_!”

* * *

“You know...” Tsuna finally said as he watched the smoke rise into the sky. “...I think Ie really, really has a thing for artillery, and we should keep him away from Lambo's stuff.”

“Is that a M20?” Reborn sounded both intrigued and horrified in that deadpan, chirpy way he usually was. “It's pink.”

“That building's on fire!” Gokudera pointed. “What the hell happened?”

“Hibari-san!” Tsuna ran towards the slumped body. “He's alive... but he's broken so many bones...”

“...little animal.”

“Don't worry, Hibari-san. Kusakabe-san is on the way,” Tsuna reassured. “Where is Ie, Hibari-san?”

Wordlessly, Hibari pointed into the burning building. Just then, gunshots resounded from within.

“Er...” Gokudera fumbled with the list of Lambo's confiscated weapons. “Yes, he's packing heat.”

“I'm going in,” Tsuna decided.

“Wait, Tsuna,” Reborn snapped. “The building is structurally unsafe at the moment. You could-”

“My brother's inside! I can't!”

“Tenth!” Gokudera's yell echoed.

Reborn actually stared as the boy ran into the burning building. Then he realised that the building was still burning, and had to charge in after Tsuna.

The smoke hung thick in the air, mixed with the rank smell of water that had spent too much time in a tank, and Reborn was very tempted to have Leon transform into a gas mask. Tsuna was still looking about... and the stairs were destroyed. Most terrifying sight of the decade; watching your student jump and hang onto the ledge of a ruined, burning staircase.

“Tsuna!” Reborn snapped. “Get down! We're getting out!”

“I'm not going without Ie!” Tsuna snapped back, coughing on the black smoke. “He's my brother... my twin. My responsibility. Dammit...”

“Why?”

Leon spat out a pair of mittens. Really, what was the use of good circulation now?

Tsuna struggled up onto the ledge, panting before he held out a hand to Reborn, who leapt and caught it, easily getting up. Reborn shoved the mittens into Tsuna's hands. “Put these on.”

“Eh?!”

“Don't argue with me.”

“Right...” Tsuna coughed, slipping the mittens on. “You didn't have to follow.”

“Ietsuna and I share a relationship as hitman and target. You are my student.” Reborn answered, jumping ahead. Slowly. Tsuna crawled up the stairs after him, the pair of them quickly headed towards a hallway where the sounds of struggle echoed.

“How did you grow a body?” The accusation reverberated. “As you are... you're possessing a corpse! You're _dead_!”

“This is...” Tsuna walked towards them, coughing from the smoke, eyeing the dripping wet and injured blue-haired boy with the trident, and then his own twin with palette knives drawn. Both of them were injured and soaked to the bone, blood streaming freely from various cuts and wounds.

“Ie!”

“Tsuna?” Ie blinked, though the knives were still ready. “Don't come! Tsu-”

“Die!” The boy – Rokudo Mukuro, had to be – used the trident, about to stab his twin, his twin brother who'd always been so strong and vicious but probably can't survive this-

Tsuna's eyes turned gold.

* * *

_**1 The Florence Nightingale effect is a situation where a caregiver develops romantic and/or sexual feelings for his/her patient, even if very little communication or contact takes place outside of basic care. Feelings may fade once the patient is no longer in need of care, either by recovery or death.**_

2 _**Namimori is written as**_ _ **ナミ森**_ _ **, translated as 'wave forest'. I choose to translate it as 'between waves and the forest' or 'between land and sea', which is also a reference to the sky. Please note though, that the Namimori Middle School Anthem uses different Kanji for Namimori.**_

_**3 This depiction is based on the 1827 Reborn doujinshi 'Ease' and 'Lull', in which Tsuna is a sleep supporter and Hibari is the insomniac prefect. I wanna hug chibi sheep!Tsuna~! He's so tiny and convenient~!** _

4 _**Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,**_ _ **“**_ _ **Wind, Sand and Stars**_ _ **”**_

_**5 Ibid. “The Little Prince”** _

6 _**"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed." –**_ _ **The Little Prince**_

_**7 Here is my secret. It is very simple: one sees well only with the heart. The essential is invisible to the eyes.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hibari is an incredibly violent and sadistic tsundere... or something like that... I keep trying to keep that in mind, but I think some things got lost in translation... Please review!
> 
> Also, Dioscuri now has a Tumblr page! I'll be posting previews, inspiration and omakes there. Watch everything at [Dioscuri](http://dioscuri-fic.tumblr.com/)!


	10. Folio 9: Sfumato

Later, they would say that Kokuyo Land fell in a freak fire. Squatters, people would say, illegal aliens. Barely any investigator would find out beyond the dead end presented by a completely charred piece of land, the only remnant of which was a blackened stump that had been the foundation stone. The fire had taken everything. Or, their search took them to Namimori, where Hibari put a different sort of end to their search.

Only one account could have been reliably used, and Mukuro was in no way a normal criminal. His description was in no way normal, and some would have accused the illusionist of shrouding his own mind into his own illusions of fiery vengeance descended onto him. His description of the fiery angel that hit him through a building had thus been lost into the Vongola archives.

Some things, like these, are perhaps for the best. After all, who would doubt that Reborn's newest student was anything but a human being?

* * *

“Idiot-Ie, get us out faster,” Reborn ordered.

“Shut up,” Ietsuna snapped at the baby tutor, leaping out of the giant hole in the wall that had definitely not been there a moment before to land on his feet crouching. The wall, and half the remaining façade of Kokuyo Land, had unfortunately shattered in the punch his twin had used to send Mukuro flying _through_ it.

“This is your mess,” Reborn snapped.

“I had him on the ropes,” Ietsuna shot back. “I had a plan of escape.”

“I noticed,” Reborn sarcastically commented. “You're still an idiot, Ietsuna. And now your brother is paying the price.”

“If you're trying to guilt me, it's not working,” Ietsuna coughed as he checked the soles of his shoes in the dim glow of the burning Kokuyo. “What do you know, these things are _really_ durable. Which way?”

“Follow the fire.” If Reborn was worried or scanning for any form of Flame usage, he didn't show it. There was too much fire already.

A column of orange flame licked the night sky then, almost a literal pillar in Kokuyo Land.

“The Dying Will Flames,” Reborn commented from his perch on Ietsuna's shoulder during the jog. “Tsuna has a lot of them. It's in his blood, in his heart, and he's suited to use them and fight as a descendant of the First. A child with such a dangerous power... A single temper tantrum could burn down half of Namimori. You stopped them from sealing the Flames off, Ietsuna. The Ninth refused to come to Japan at that sign, believing it to be Lorenzo's curse.”

“Lorenzo?” Ietsuna coughed, stumbling slightly on the uneven dirt.

“The late Sawada Ietsuna was the first of the Ninth's Guardians, the Lightning,” Reborn explained. “He resigned the Mafia and left under mysterious circumstances, burying himself so deeply no one could track him until his son joined the Family. Timoteo made a home visit. Imagine his surprise to see his old friend as the father of his newest operative.”

Ietsuna sighed, leaning against a tree as the next Flame erupted, amber eyes melting into satisfaction as Mukuro flew out of the dimness and impacted the tree trunk they were leaning on, punted there by another fiery punch. It was looming then; a conflagration personified.

“...he's beautiful, isn't he?” was the twin's comment once his breath recovered. “My twin.”

It was not hard to tell where Ietsuna was coming from, between the blazing figure of flame and the cold night. His own amber eyes might well have been transplanted where caramel might be expected; those narrowed, calm pools of amber that could harden and burn with a furrowed brow, were staring out of what should have been the nice Sawada twin. A flame flickered on his forehead, and Tsuna's hair seemed dark than ever before against the skin that Nana had jokingly said was softer than her own. The female uniform and red armband paired with sneakers completed the look, combined with the metal-studded leather gloves that had formed on his hands, and which were on fire along with his head.

“Always one more, isn't there?” Mukuro purred. “What power...”

Yes, he was beautiful, in the way that stars about to go supernova might be expected to be.

“So that's the legendary Dying Will Flame,” Mukuro taunted, barely noticing the steps behind him. “Your twin managed to nearly kill me without the Flame. I wonder how you would fare.”

“In painting, we call orange a complementary colour to blue,” Ietsuna wrapped an arm around Mukuro's throat and his other arm around the chest, deceptively calm as the laughter cut off. “Standing next to each other, blue and orange contrast the most. The contrast of blue and orange in Monet's _Impression, Sunrise_ sparked the nineteenth-century Impressionist movement.”

“Y- You! Let go...!” Mukuro hissed as frost started to form over him once more, struggling to back-kick with socked feet and scrambling to break Ietsuna's fingers, but his eyes never left the brightest thing in the open air. Tsuna's walking speed was picking up. Orange spheres on his hands nearly solidifying into mini-stars, which gave off intense heat.

“I'm quite partial to ultramarine myself,” Ietsuna tightened his choke, “but Windsor blue suits you, Tsuna.”

The eyes widened, and Tsuna stopped advancing. The saffron flames outlined a heart-shaped face set with amber eyes, brow furrowed. The stars were still held suspended over his hand.

“That's right,” Ietsuna spoke, almost like talking to a spooked foal. “Tsuna, you can hear me, yes?”

“You should stop,” Reborn admonished the other twin. “You've done enough.”

“I'm stopping him,” Ietsuna hissed, amber eyes wide. “If this guy does something stupid-”

Mukuro gripped and threw aside the other twin with surprising strength. Ietsuna wheezed as he hit the ground. “ _Sacre_ -”

The stars fell down.

They burst into a firestorm that consumed the stunned illusionist, the witnesses, two trees, and a lot of debris and dirt. The light blanked out everything. Animals fled the scene, birds shrieked like the flock of Apollo risen to the night. Clouds began to form in the sky above it to shroud the starlit skies. The conflagration and the flashes of heated air consumed the locale, the birth of a star on a field attracting the attention of Gokudera, Yamamoto, the children, and the assassins hidden in the shadow.

The assassins slunk back into the shadows. There were less painful ways towards certain death.

Reborn, on the other hand, regarded the fire whirl with the sort of awe reserved for natural disasters, stuck in a bubble of cold as the other twin intervened, throwing himself between the two and his sibling. Sure, Dying Will Flames were condensed energy, but enough Flames to produce heat enough to effect local weather changes was, to borrow a word from one of the prospective Tenth Generation Guardians, _extreme_. Especially since it was the manifestation of life; life and resolve enough to command the world was terrifying, and required efforts so far beyond humanity as to be called divine wrath.

“...that's Japan's third mushroom cloud1,” Ietsuna commented, panting and clambering to his feet, in wake of the silence that had fallen over the newly opened ground. A wall of ice had formed, the only shield between them and a fiery death. The part of the building behind them was now a melted pile of charred slop. “What is _wrong_ with you, Tsuna?”

“I- Ie...” Tsuna stuttered, almost as if snapping out of a dream. The Flame blew out. “You're alright?”

Mukuro had fainted behind the wall of ice. Both of them ignored him.

“This is not the first assault the Disciplinary Committee has done,” Ietsuna spoke calmly. “What changed?”

“I... I was terrified,” Tsuna whispered. “There's only Kaa-san and you at home, and Tou-san is never around. I- If anything happened to you, I- I don't know what to do. I- If Ie died... and _you_! Why did you pull Lambo and I-Pin along?!”

“They wanted to come along!” Ietsuna defended. His face then softened, looking towards the flaming building. “Is this really about me?”

Tsuna sniffed as he was suddenly hugged.

“Sorry, Tsuna,” Ietsuna tersely muttered. “I forgot. Grandpa died in a fire.”

“Ie...” Tsuna buried his face into his twin's shoulder, soot streaking the pristine white as orange chains of Flame twirled around the joined hands. “I- I don't want to imagine a world without Ie!”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Ietsuna huffed quietly. “This bond binds us, right? As long as you live, I'll always be there.”

Snow began to fall around them, flakes crusting into hair as the cold of January bit down. The amber light of the orange Flame flaked into rainbow frost, before dissolving to thin air. Steam puffed, and Ietsuna sighed, casting his eyes to the heavens.

“Castor and Pollux are out again,” he commented.

“What?” Tsuna lifted his head, wiping his eyes.

“That,” Ietsuna pointed to two stars in the skies. “Those two points are the stars Castor and Pollux, named after the heroic twins in Greek mythology. Pollux was the son of Zeus, while Castor was the son of a mortal. When Castor died, because he was mortal, Pollux begged his father Zeus to give Castor immortality, and he did, by uniting them together in the heavens.”

“...how can you find the time to stargaze after this?” Tsuna stared at him, aghast.

“Well,” Ietsuna shrugged. “I'm alive, you're alive, everyone precious to us made it out alive, and Rokudo Mukuro's out for the count. Isn't that a good thing?”

“...you're still going to get scolded later, Ie!” Tsuna then collapsed. “Ow! My entire body hurts!”

“Intense Flame manipulation does that,” Reborn commented, ignored by the panicking twins and the approaching paramedics and helpers. “I'm more surprised that your body hasn't been torn apart under Hyper Dying Will Mode.”

* * *

“I came to visit you, Tsuna,” Dino spoke _sotto vace_ within the hospital ward that Tsuna had been lying inside for a week with only regular visits – and homework, and paperwork – to pass the time. “My cute junior getting hurt this early in his training to capture Rokudo Mukuro is such news, that I rushed over from Italy as soon as I could.”

“I'm so glad for your visit, Dino-sempai,” Tsuna agreed. “But, why are you whispering? And, why are your subordinates forming a wall around you?”

“Tsuna, don't you feel scared?” Dino hissed, jabbing a thumb towards the second bed. “You're sharing a room with him!”

“Boss! There's another one!”

Dino whirled around as a few of his men flew out, collapsed in pain, or simply fainted. “What? An enemy attack?!”

“Crowding will be punished by biting to death,” Rubber squeaked as a foot was set back from performing a back leg sweep.

Dino and Tsuna stared.

The severe expression relaxed. “Oh, Tsu-chan. When did you end up here?”

“Alouette-san,” Tsuna greeted. “It's just flesh wounds, I'll be out soon. Are you here to see Hibari-san?”

“I'm here to change the flowers,” Alouette complained, showing a bouquet of carnations and waving towards the general direction of a certain sleeping young skylark. “Boys need their space, but they shouldn't need to share it with mosquitoes. Who's this? Your... friend? I think I saw him with Ie-kun.”

“Ah, this is Dino-sempai,” Tsuna introduced. “Dino-sempai is a former student under my home tutor, so it's like we're... brothers? I think Ie might object to that word... Dino-sempai, this is Alouette-san, Hibari-san's grandmother.”

“Anyone can tell with one look.” Dino honestly replied. “...wait. _Grandmother_?”

The smile dropped. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“I- I mean, you're a beautiful lady, even if you're old-” Dino wisely shut his mouth after that and searched for a change of subject. “AAHHH!”

“Dino-sempai!” Tsuna entreated, side-eyeing Hibari. “Hibari-san will wake up!”

“Tsu-chan is so attentive of my grandson,” Alouette cooed. “I wish you were old enough to be adopted into the household2.”

To their dread, the older woman turned to the sleeping Hibari. “Oi, idiot grandson. When are you going to make another Hibari?”

“...shut up, old carnivore,” Eyelashes flew up to reveal grey eyes set in an irritated expression. “Why are you still here?”

“What, and I even came all the way here, chick,” Alouette teased. “Sorry, Tsu-chan, he's a boorish caveman now but soon he'll be cultured just like my Papi.”

“H- Hibari-san should choose his own wife- I mean, mate,” Tsuna uneasily fidgeted. “Alouette-san might want great-grandchildren, but I'm sure Hibari-san would find someone on his own time. The world is also full of mother-in-laws...”

Dino paled, trying to imagine the Hibari matriarch, if such a thing existed or if Hibari had gnawed his way out of the womb like sharks did at birth. A bullied Tsuna in a kimono may or may not be involved in that hypothetical scenario. He crashed like a bad computer programme.

“Boss!” Romario shouted. “Please pull yourself together! This is not the time to fall to an unsettling gender reveal!”

“TENTH!” The door slammed open. “I brought you white roses! Are you alright, Tenth?!”

“Ask yourself that question first!” Tsuna freaked at Gokudera's beat-up state. “What happened, Gokudera-kun?! And why are the roses red?!”

“I got ran over a few times on my way here!” Gokudera declared before falling over.

“Yo, Tsuna,” Yamamoto strolled in with a full platter of sushi. “Sorry, Gokudera ran ahead of me. I'll be taking him to A&E now.”

“Thank you very much, Yamamoto-kun,” Tsuna struggled from his position half-in and half-out of bed.

Impatiently, Hibari pulled himself out with surprising grace and pushed him back in. “Little animals should be resting more because of their delicate constitutions.”

“B- But-”

“Oh, you're declining?” Hibari loomed. “And I even helped you into bed. You've got some guts there...”

“Hibari-san, why am I being threatened?!” Tsuna squeaked.

He was silence with a pat on the head. “Just accept a person's kindness.”

“I'm surprised...” Dino mumbled on the sidelines, awakening from getting the metaphorical bridge dropped onto him. “...that kind of bastard can have a soft side to him.”

Dino was then very firmly yanked out by one ear. “Shut up, all of you,” Alouette ordered, peeping on the very quickly emptied ward. “I'm really looking forward.”

“Huh?” Dino blinked.

Alouette regarded him as one would a very dim lemming. “Where else do you think I'm going to find a beautiful virgin who's close in age and can tolerate Kyoya, great at housework, and love taking care of people in this day and age?”

And down came another bridge.

“Boss! Please pull yourself together!” Romario shook the comatose Dino once again.

“What, I thought there was an enemy attack or something,” Ietsuna strolled up, a boy in cow-prints hot on his heels. “It's just Dino-sempai and Maître.”

“Lambo-san was a great help!” Lambo kept cheering. “Lambo gave the weapon that kept Ie-nii safe! Lambo-sama is the best!”

“You look busy,” Alouette commented.

“Yeah,” Ietsuna agreed. “Hibari finally got around to the gender-equality proposal, just in time for our latest trouble to hit. And so soon after the attacks...”

“You mean, those molestation cases near the outlying districts?” Alouette questioned. “I've heard of it. An old man, was it?”

“If it's for the peace of Namimori, the fangs of the Disciplinary Committee will recognise neither age nor gender nor money,” Ietsuna stoutly replied.

“I'm not talking about _you_ , you cold-hearted disciple, or Kyoya,” Alouette retorted, pointing. “I mean _them_.”

Kusakabe, and a few more DC members trailing behind him, gave her a salute at Kusakabe's lead. “We're very glad for Baa-sama to worry for us,” Kusakabe stoutly replied. “But, these cases might soon escalate to assault cases. The necessity of our actions surpass the need for our personal safety.”

“That's nice,” Alouette's smile was filled with barbs. “I still remember the _banchou 3 _who used to come by the gym. How long has it been?”

“It's been a while, Baa-sama,” Kusakabe smiled. “I can still feel the sole of your shoe on my skull.”

There was a collective backing away, and more than one member shot a look at her _s_ _avate_ shoes. They looked like they would hurt a lot.

“As long as you recall, that's fine, Tetsu-kun,” Alouette chuckled. “So, let's leave Kyoya and Tsu-chan to their private time.”

“My brother is alone with that fetish pervert-” Ietsuna's flailing was interrupted by one leg lashing out and arms locking his own back. “Tsuna! I'm coming to save you!”

“Don't worry,” Alouette continued smiling. “The Sawada line will continue even if Tsu-chan becomes a Hibari. In fact, this is a way for a teacher and student to build bonds.”

“You and I have nothing to do with Tsuna's marriage prospects!” Ietsuna shouted.

“But _I_ do,” Alouette sighed, smiling. Perhaps, in another light, there were tears in her eyes.

Dino, finally awake, was there when he spotted Ietsuna stuck in a head-lock. “Oh, Ietsuna! And your Maître, right?”

“So,” and here Ietsuna was let go of, “what business do the horse herbivores have in Namimori?”

“I see retirement hasn't put a dent in the skills of the Mauviette,” Dino complimented. “You see, Ietsuna here and his brother are heirs to the Vongola. I think you know it too, since your family line has been involved with the Vongola since its inception.”

“Family line?” Ietsuna broke out of the lock. “Maître?”

Alouette relented after a long staring match. “You're not the only one with a troublesome ancestor.”

Ietsuna's eyes took on a measure of respect. “You were dragged into this too, Maître?”

“...in a way,” Alouette reflected, almost daydreaming. “In a way. There's always one more thing, though, that keeps us there.”

Then Alouette brightened. “So, about the pervert attacks. What are you doing now? Two officers are currently in the hospital.”

If Ietsuna detected the subject change, he didn't notice it. “Well... we got ourselves some part-timers.”

* * *

 

_**1 A pyrocumulus cloud is produced by the intense heating of the air from the surface. The intense heat induces convection, which causes the air mass to rise to a point of stability, usually in the presence of moisture. Phenomena such as volcanic eruptions, forest fires, and occasionally industrial activities can induce formation of this cloud. The detonation of a nuclear weapon in the atmosphere will also produce a pyrocumulus, in the form of a mushroom cloud, which is made by the same mechanism.** _

 

_**2 Japanese adult adoption is the practice in Japan of legally and socially accepting a non-consanguineal adult into an offspring role of a family. The centuries-old practice was developed as a mechanism for families to extend their family name, estate and ancestry without an unwieldy reliance on blood lines. The adoption of one individual by another in Japan is commonly used as an alternative to same-sex marriage, which does not exist in Japan. By the elder party adopting the younger (as stipulated by the rules of adoption), the estate of either party can then be inherited or absorbed by the other without the payment of the prohibitive gift tax that would otherwise apply.** _

_**3 In Japan in the 20th century, the term refers to a leader of juvenile delinquents in middle and high schools. The term became a title of honour for people with leadership personalities, and who stood against tough elements, and in turn, the negative connotation of the word diminished. It also became a scornful term for people who had a great deal of bravado.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, to repeat, [Dioscuri has its own Tumblr](http://dioscuri-fic.tumblr.com/)


	11. Folio 10: Effets de soir

 

“...true...”

There was a body crushed under a large wrecking ball.

Grey-skinned hands that were attached to said body under the ball twitched, like the old experiment with running electric current through frog legs. Those hands had been just about to slice her, so Hana felt no pity. Rather, she was more occupied with the wrecking ball, which was attached to a chain. The chain was held by a tall, dark and handsome stranger, if you discounted the scar on his right cheek and the fact that he literally towered over her and was probably twice her mass. In the light of the setting sun, he was twice as intimidating.

_T- These are the attackers... right? I'm dead... aren't I?_

The fleeting thought of imminent death was stayed when an old man was kicked to be flattened on the large _wrecking ball_. She knew that they were kicked, because only two men in Namimori consistently had that sort of strength, and because she could spot Sawada Ietsuna's distinctive shoes and the red armband on the right arm as he approached.

“You know,” was his opening statement rather than noting that, you know, a dead body was crushed under the wrecking ball that Tall-Dark-And-Handsome wielded. “There are simpler ways to incapacitate him rather than crushing him right in front of a civilian.”

“My apologies,” Tall-Dark-And-Handsome replied, casting thin eyes towards Hana's direction. “There was simply no time.”

Amber eyes slowly regarded her, and Hana bristled at the cool regard. “Don't worry,” said the lying monkey, “she's one of our officers. She knew what was coming.”

“Sawada Ietsuna!” Hana immediately yelled. “What the hell? I didn't agree to help f- for _this_! That man is crushed! And the old man is crushed as well!”

“Ah,” Ietsuna drawled, “this is a consequence of calling in our part-time secretary when our usually male-dominated Disciplinary Committee falls into these problems. I keep saying that we should put you on the slate of officers already.”

“That's not the point, you monkey!” Hana pointed. “He's dead!”

Ietsuna simply shrugged. “And so it goes.”

* * *

The start of the day's devolution, was really in the afternoon, at the Namimori Central Hospital.

It was hardly surprising that Namimori Central Hospital found itself filled with students, given the recently curbed attacks on students of Namimori Middle. Two such students, both girls, were currently doing their homework on one of the outdoors tables.

“ _Taihei no/ Nemuri o samasu/ Jōkisen/ Tatta shihai de/ Yoru mo nemurezu,_ ” Kyoko read out loud to her friend. “Hana-chan, do you know the meaning of this poem?”

Sweeping aside a loose lock of black hair from her own bangs, Kurokawa Hana cast an eye on the poem:

  
泰平の  
眠りを覚ます  
上喜撰  
たった四杯で  
夜も眠れず  
  


“It's filled with puns1,” Kurokawa Hana concluded after a look. “This poem is a complex set of puns. _Taihei_ ( 泰平) means "tranquil"; _Jōkisen_ ( 上喜撰) is the name of a costly brand of green tea containing large amounts of caffeine; and _shihai_ ( 四杯) means "four cups". A literal translation of the poem is:

 __  
Awoken from sleep  
of a peaceful quiet world  
by  Jōkisen tea;  
with only four cups of it  
one can't sleep even at night.  


“There is an alternate translation, based on the puns,” Hana continued. “ _Taihei_ can refer to the "Pacific Ocean" ( 太平); _jōkisen_ also means "steam-powered ships" ( 蒸気船); and _shihai_ also means "four vessels". The poem, therefore, has a hidden meaning:

 __  
The steam-powered ships  
break the halcyon slumber  
of the Pacific;  
a mere four boats are enough  
to make us lose sleep at night.  


“In summary, this _kyoka_ has a double meaning to indicate the arrival of the Black Ships 2 in 1853, and thus Kotoba-sensei set it as our introduction in History,” Hana explained.

“I see...” Kyoko giggled. “I thought it was just a funny poem. Hana is so smart and cultured.”

“It's nothing,” Hana demurred.

“Say, Hana, did you hear about the sudden snowstorm in Kokuyo?” Kyoko asked while scribbling. “It appeared right over the burning Kokuyo Land and put out the fires!”

“Snow this late in winter? Cold...” Hana groused. “Don't forget to wrap up, Kyoko, and notice your surroundings more. Recently there's been attacks on women and girls in the general area around Namimori.”

“Yes, Hana,” Kyoko dismissed with a smile. “I'll be staying with Onii-chan until visiting hours are over, so Hana, you'll have to make your own way back. Will you be safe?”

“I have a part-time job,” Hana replied stoically. “In any case, I'll just get one of the Disciplinary monkeys to escort me.”

“Eh? But aren't they occupied with cleaning up after that recent series of attacks on students?” Kyoko frowned. “Will you be fine, Hana?”

“Don't worry about me,” Hana reassured, putting away her books and pens. “Look, Sawada Ietsuna is over there.”

“Eh? Oh, Ietsuna-kun!” Kyoko waved at the brown-haired boy walking towards them on the hospital grounds. “Are you here to visit Tsunayoshi-kun?”

“Yes,” Ietsuna flatly replied, clearly steaming.

“What happened?” Hana asked.

“He got locked into a room with Hibari.”

“I'll pray for him,” was Kyoko's immediate, if slightly confusing, answer. Confusing if you only knew of Hibari's bloodthirsty reputation and not of the cleaning symbiosis between Tsuna and Hibari.

“Hold on, both of you are in the Disciplinary Committee, right?” Hana demanded. “Aren't you guys investigating the attacks on girls in the area?”

“I can't tell you much,” Ietsuna mused. “With two officers and about twenty members hospitalised, Kusakabe and I are still looking for leads to catch the perverts. It's difficult for the Committee to intrude into the affairs of female students, because we have almost no female members, and I'm looking for someone to replace our former part-time secretary.”

Hana frowned at the flat reply. “I see...”

“Rest assured that we of the Disciplinary Committee are doing all we can to curb these attacks as soon as possible,” Ietsuna replied in a professional manner. “If you'd excuse me.”

“Hold on, please,” Kyoko stood up. “Erm... Ietsuna-kun, could I trouble you to escort Hana back home? I'm worried that those perverts might be waiting around here. Please.”

“Just nice,” Hana suddenly spoke up. “I need to talk to you, Sawada.”

“Fine,” Ietsuna nodded after what felt like a geological epoch. “Let's go, Kurokawa.”

Prefect and student walked to the main entrance of Namimori Central Hospital, until Hana stopped to rifle through her school bag. Ietsuna waited, until a familiar red armband graced Hana's right elbow.

“Who's getting replaced, Sawada?” Hana snapped, no longer a simple student but rather the Secretary (Part-time) of Female Affairs of the Disciplinary Committee.

“Well, it's been a month since your last appearance, Kurokawa,” Ietsuna shrugged.

“It's hard getting to the Reception Room,” Hana defended. “So, what do we do?”

“Walk with me,” Ietsuna commanded. “I'll explain.”

“Let's start with when did these start,” Hana prompted.

“Second of February, one second-year in Kokuyo High School's lacrosse club was hospitalised after an attack,” Ietsuna read off. “Third February, a third-year Kokuyo Middle student reported theft of underwear in her general district. Fifth February, the first of Namimori's cases: three second-years reported being accosted, resulting in two casualties and one in intensive care. Sixth February, two separate cases: one in the outskirts of the shopping district, and another in the south district along the main canal. In most cases, an old man and one or two grey-skinned men in Kokuyo Middle uniform were described where possible.”

“Today's the seventh,” Hana noted. “You managed to piece together a timeline in two days?”

“No, I only just got the file from the police post,” Ietsuna replied.

“The police?!”

“As long as we curb the attacks, does it matter how it's carried out?” Ietsuna commented.

“I can't forgive an enemy to women,” Hana snapped. “So, do you have any idea?”

“Our timeline indicates that they are moving from Kokuyo to Namimori, towards the sea,” Ietsuna pointed. “I think they're trying to make for the Sea of Japan and run to Korea or China. Since all the locations were isolated and reported property damage such as craters, it's highly possible that they're trying not to be seen. There's more conjectures, but at this stage we have no proof, only that they're following the waterways.”

Hana regarded the long and isolated canal that they were currently following. “This canal leads out to the sea, right?”

Ietsuna looked up. “...Yes. Like I said, it's simply a conjecture.”

“That's what I'm afraid of!” Hana retorted. “Because in your case, conjectures are often-”

Crashes came in a variety of sounds, but for it to happen right behind her caused Hana to fall to the ground and roll, landing on her side. She peered up as the dust cleared, seeing only the tall, dark and handsome stranger with the wrecking ball.

_...reported property damage such as craters..._

“...true...”

“You know,” was Ietsuna's opening statement after bursting into action to incapacitate another man lying in wait. “There are simpler ways to incapacitate him rather than crushing him right in front of a civilian.”

“My apologies,” Tall-Dark-And-Handsome replied, casting thin eyes towards Hana's direction. “There was simply no time.”

Amber eyes slowly regarded her, and Hana bristled at the cool regard. “Don't worry,” said the lying monkey, “she's one of our officers. She knew what was coming.”

“Sawada Ietsuna!” Hana immediately yelled. “What the hell? I didn't agree to help f- for _this_! That man is crushed! And the old man is crushed as well!”

“Ah,” Ietsuna drawled, “this is a consequence of calling in our part-time secretary when our usually male-dominated Disciplinary Committee falls into these problems. I keep saying that we should put you on the slate of officers already.”

“That's not the point, you monkey!” Hana pointed at the wrecking ball. “He's dead!”

Ietsuna simply shrugged. “And so it goes.”

Hana drew a breath as sharp fingernails closed around her face, closing her eyes to stop them.

“Damn you...” the old man snarled, holding his nose from where it sprouted in the midst of a very clear footprint. On his head perched a lone yellow bird. “How dare you kick me!”

“Isn't it common sense to kick those who surprise others?” Ietsuna questioned. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“My name is Birds,” the old man retorted clearly, stemming the flow of blood. “My hobby is keeping birds. My other hobby is frightening others. If you want her to live, you'd best not touch me again, fool.”

“No! I'll do-... something...” Ietsuna trailed off. “Something...”

“W- What?” Birds sputtered, probably at the unseen look on Ietsuna's face. “Don't you want her to live?”

“That's the thing...” Ietsuna chuckled sheepishly. “I get the feeling that, no matter what I do, you'll still kill her. And if you don't, I don't have assurance that your pet will honour the agreement. His twin is dead, after all.”

“The Bloody Twins, Jiji and Djidji, are completely loyal to me,” Birds gloated. “Even if I didn't get paid by Rokudo-san, this is good as well. That look of panic on your face, that is.”

“...so, you're accomplices of Rokudo Mukuro as well?” Ietsuna's enquiry was quiet and calm.

“Rokudo Mukuro...” Birds mulled. “How did you know that name? Why... why did your expression change?”

“Two days ago, Rokudo Mukuro and his crew were bitten to death by the Namimori Middle School Disciplinary Committee,” Ietsuna commented. “If you're with him, I suppose he called in reinforcements. If that is so... then our chairman Hibari Kyoya would command that you be bitten to death. Ah, but you have a hostage, a student of our beloved school... until now.”

“Eh?” A sound of things breaking, and Hana found herself borne into the air and opened her eyes to face the intimidating man, who now bore her above the fallen assailant. An orange glow seemed to fall over them, curtained in a light that seemed to have painted a curtain around them.

“My apologies,” the tall, dark and handsome stranger started. “For startling you.”

“I- It's fine...”

Ietsuna made sure to kick Birds into their direction, if only to screw with the imminent _coup de foudre_. “Practice what you preach!”

Thus, like  how a shogunate found itself at unrest following the ships approaching with the sun's rise, Kurokawa Hana found herself restless with the sunset.  “My name is Lancia,” the spiky-haired man stated. “I am a hitman. Formerly, I was the double of Rokudo Mukuro until he was defeated...”

Ietsuna mulled over the very long story of Lancia's life with Hana sparkling in a corner. Love had struck in with a horror unparalleled since Poison Scorpion Bianchi decided that Reborn was her lover.

“So... you took in Rokudo as a child. However, Mukuro used his crazy eye powers to brainwash and control you and kill your entire family, and then put you to work in his gang. You finally recalled what happened after we put Rokudo in the hospital, and then you saw Birds and his pets attacking women and chased them continuously from Kokuyo to Namimori, which is frankly not that far, but combined with keeping out of sight of passers-by took three days and nights. And, you just broke the _Omertà_ by blabbing in front of a civilian, so... _c'est la vie_.”

A shrug. “Bye~”

A school bag landed on his head. “Sorry, Sawada is really insensitive,” Hana apologised with sparkles of sympathy fairly illuminated around her person.

“I thought-”

“I _said_ it was a bad time, Lancia!” Ietsuna bluntly stated. “Kurokawa, go home.”

“What?” Hana bristled. “I met a tall, dark and handsome stranger for the first time in my life, and you're telling me to leave him? We haven't even been introduced!”

“Shit,” Ietsuna swore. “Lancia, this is my classmate, Kurokawa. Kurokawa, Lancia, whom I only just met. She doesn't know _anything_.”

“...I see.” Only then did Lancia turn slightly white in colour. “I think...”

“I think- Are you alright?” Ietsuna poked him. Lancia fell over. Hana stared at the redness that started to leak, just like the grey-skinned man. The sun was dipping over the horizon already.

“B- B- Blood...”

“Kurokawa,” Ietsuna passed her his phone. “Call Kusakabe, and an ambulance, in that order. Speed dial three and four exactly.”

“W- Why-”

“Because if they find bodies here, Lancia is going to be arrested,” Ietsuna grimly stated. “Japan still has the death penalty. Even in self-defence, there's no way to prove that in court. Call.”

“R- Right!” Hana jabbed a nail onto the button, watching Ietsuna take off his shirt and tear into it to staunch the blood flow. _I never thought that maturity would be scary... but this Sawada-san is mature to the point of being cold-hearted._ _Almost like... ice..._

* * *

“So... you've been having those subordinates of Rokudo Mukuro on... community service?” Tsuna echoed, pushing his little finger into his ear.

“If they broke it, they pay for it,” Ietsuna reasoned. “Well, it's partly their hospital fees as well, and the pineapple fairy's fees too. The two of you are getting out of this enforced holiday soon, so this is to get back onto track as well. And then, the new subordinate-”

“-that you kidnapped,” Reborn added from a nearby shelf.

“-Lancia is so nice, I want to keep him, but he said that he needed to get back to Italy,” Ietsuna lamented, ignoring the baby hitman. Reborn showed heroic restraint and did not try to kill him. “Well, he always looks like he got punched when he faces you, Tsuna.”

“No, I think Lancia-san just got punched by your brutal honesty, Ie,” Tsuna replied.

Two knocks on the door, and Ietsuna paused in his daily interruption of what would probably look like a cosy couple sharing a hospital ward if one of the pair was not Hibari Kyoya and chronically unable to comprehend romance. “Enter.”

The door banged open. “I'M VERY SORRY YOU GOT INJURED, SAWADA!!”

“I'll bite you to death,” was Hibari's immediate answer.

“I- It's fine, Sasagawa-sempai!” Tsuna quickly intervened. “This is a hospital too, please...”

“So, in extreme repayment, please accept these to the extreme!” Ryohei presented an envelope that Tsuna gingerly peered at.

“Two tickets to Namimori Animal Park...” Tsuna blinked. “I'm very sorry, Sasagawa-sempai, but Disciplinary Committee regulations do not allow us to accept gifts outside of holiday obligations.”

“Eh?! That's unfair! Hibari!” Ryohei turned towards Hibari's cot. “You accept this for Sawada.”

“No.”

“Accept it to the extreme!”

“No.”

“When a Boss is offered a gift, it's courtesy to accept it,” Reborn pointed out as Hibari started to truly fight back.

“I'm not going to become a Mafia boss,” Tsuna grimly replied. “After Ie ended up like that...”

“He chose to protect the Family,” Reborn pointed out. “Ietsuna can't produce the Dying Will Flames. So it falls to you, Tsuna, to take on the mantle of Boss.”

“Sorry, Tsuna,” Ietsuna spoke. “I'm a useless older brother that can't help you.”

“Don't change your family standing when you feel like it! We're twins!”

“Really?”

“Tomorrow... tomorrow we'll prove it!” Tsuna announced.

“...fine,” Ietsuna admitted. “Until noon, though.”

Reborn had no idea what they were talking about, until the morning came, and Nana said with a smile, “Tsu-kun, could you do the dishes?”

“I could... if I were Tsuna,” came the extremely blunt reply. “Tsuna went ahead. I'm going out!”

Bianchi dropped her chopsticks. Lambo, Fuuta and I-Pin started. A grain of rice fell to the table before Reborn.

_None of us noticed the switch..._

* * *

“Good morning, Tenth's twin!”

“G- Gokudera-kun...”

“Geh!” A shocked looked came over Gokudera's face. “I'm very sorry, Tenth! Please allow me to make up for my mistakes!”

“What are you doing?”

“We're playing a game, Yamamoto.”

“Would Yamamoto-kun like to play too?”

“Sure,” Yamamoto smiled. “What game?”

“It's the-”

“-'Who is Tsunayoshi'-”

“-game.”

“Who is Ietsuna-”

“-and who is Tsunayoshi?”

Yamamoto thought for a while, and then smiled. “I don't know!”

“Sawada Tsunayoshi!” their teacher called. “Solve this set of simultaneous equations!”

“x=5, y=3.”

“That's... correct...” the teacher subsided.

“That's definitely Ietsuna,” Hana growled.

“Sawada Ietsuna!” the teacher called during the next period. “When was the Tokugawa Shogunate set up?”

“I- I don't know...”

“ _When did they switch?_ ” Hana exclaimed.

 _It's more than that,_ Reborn realised. _The_ _first_ _thing about identical twins, is that_ _you keep your attention away from them for 30 seconds and then you can't tell them apart_ _easily_ _._ _The_ _other skill is that these twins, who know each other's lives so intimately,_ _act too well,_ _that I can't tell them apart._

“Ah, I'm tired,” one twin yawned, lying down on the roof of the school.

“Don't be like that, Ie,” the other reproached. “It's just one more minute, right?”

“Right, Tsuna,” the first one said. “Have you figured it out yet, Reborn?”

The baby hitman glared at the two of them for five minutes until the clock struck twelve, staring from the left to the right. Sure, they could call each other's names, but they also responded to each other's names. Suffice it to say that, without shooting the Dying Will Bullet, Reborn would not be finding out which was which today.

“...Why the noon limit?” Reborn asked.

A sudden pall fell over the twins as they exchanged looks. “Because...”

“...in this world...”

“...only one person can tell us apart...”

“...and that person...”

“ _..._ _really hates this game._ ” Both twins concluded at the same time that a tonfa embedded itself into the wall above the second twin's head.

“Sawada Ietsuna,” Hibari loomed from his position of the highest point of the school. “The armband on the left is allowed only for little animals.”

“H- Hibari-san!” the first twin that Reborn had pegged for Ietsuna freaked. “S- Sorry!”

“Your personality _sucks_ ,” the second twin, now positively identified as Ietsuna, snapped back as he blocked a tonfa and threw a low kick that Hibari dodged.

“That bird-brain and his wild instincts...”

Reborn considered the heterochromic owl roosting beside him. “Even you can't tell them apart?”

“They have the makings of true illusionists only in that quarter,” came the bitter admission. “I could have figured it out, given a longer time limit. Maybe that under-developed dodo imprinted on Tsunayoshi-kun- I have to-”

The rest of his words was lost when a palette knife was flung at him.

* * *

_**1 in Japanese, kakekotoba (** _ **掛詞** _** ) or "pivot words" ** _

_**2 The Black Ships (** _ **黒船** _**, kurofune, Edo Period term) was the name given to Western vessels arriving in Japan in the 16th and 19th centuries. In particular, Kurofune refers to** _ ** Mississippi, Plymouth, Saratoga ** **_, and_ Susquehanna _of the Perry Expedition for the opening of Japan, 1852-1854, that arrived on July 14, 1853 at Uraga Harbor (part of present-day Yokosuka) in Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan under the command of United States Commodore Matthew Perry. The poem above was found in the Wikipedia page for the Black Ships, author not stated._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not familiar with the Japanese Middle School syllabus, but I'm fairly sure that Japanese history post-Tokugawa Shogunate is also covered somewhere.
> 
> It just occurred to me that Lancia would totally be Hana's type...


	12. Folio 11: Fresco-secco

Ietsuna took the news of Mukuro's remote travel way  via bodily possession  better than expected,  Reborn thought .  Tsuna  apparently  did not share that opinion, since he was  still hovering between his twin and the hospital bed, ready to tackle Ietsuna out of the way.

“Yes,” Mukuro smirked in the owl's body, though he technically did not have lips to smirk with. “Why are you holding a knife over my physical body? You'll have a bigger chance injuring your... twin.”

Ietsuna withdrew the palette knife. “We collected your men, by the way.”

The owl took off, wings fluttering into the sky outside. Slowly, Mukuro's own eyes fluttered open to reveal a two-toned glare.

“And what of it?” came the deep purr.

“Lancia, Joshima Ken, and Kakimoto Chikusa has agreed to work part-time under the Disciplinary Committee to serve their mandated ten thousand hours of community service,” Ietsuna continued, missing the faint surprise that passed over Mukuro's features since he was now staring at a clipboard in his hand. “They have given their accounts of the attacks and the motivations thereof, lacking only your testimony. While we must note the dubious legality behind the current rash of cases, your case has been taken over by the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee.”

Mukuro was impressed, both at the professionalism behind Ietsuna's entire delivery and the utter blather contained within that delivery. “You should have simply called the Vindice.”

“You can't move in your condition, Rokudo-san,” Tsuna intervened as the clipboard broke.

“Not that it would stop the Vindice, if what Reborn told us was true,” Ietsuna added. “But we're still understaffed, and the... twenty percent... of your body covered in second- and first-degree burns that would take an estimated month to heal agrees with us. As long as your hospital stay goes on, I get to boss around Kakimoto and Joshima.”

“I'm surprised that you got them to work for you,” Mukuro's comment could have dried water out.

“Community service,” Ietsuna corrected. “Of course, if you'd like to extend your hospital stay, I can ask the Chairman to break some of your bones. I'm sure he would oblige you _eternally_.”

This was the third meeting of the Rokudo case. The first had decimated an entire ward; it marked the first of many casualties in the Hibari-Rokudo mutual enmity. It was silly, but the mutual hate had reached cosmic levels by the second meeting, which had confirmed a budding hypothesis that yes, if reincarnation existed, there were also feuds that cross reincarnations.

Reborn, on the other hand, was not exactly occupied with the frosty and tense atmosphere that was being cultivated, and more into considering the next plan – not that anyone present could tell, even if Tsuna kept shooting looks at him. Any chance to gradually integrate Tsuna had gone pear-shaped to integrate the wrong twin; while Ietsuna was, in many ways, an ideal Mafia boss, he was also a boy with a – however subtle it may seem – giant brother complex. Add that the twins could switch identities fairly easily, and there was a fairly complicated situation.

Now, though...

Vindice; the avengers of Mafia law. It may seem oxymoronic that the criminal underworld had its laws, but there were still norms and folk-ways that hitmen followed. It had been so when Garibaldi and his thousand men invaded and Italy got its act together in 1861. It had been so when Sicily was invaded in the Second World War. Mafia law had survived the war on smuggling, drugs, organised crime, and nationalism under the Vindice, and perhaps some mutated pre-Europe form of the law had been codified and protected even before Westphalia was nothing more than a pipe dream in some diplomat's head. Anything more than bargaining with them was to gain undue attention, and at this stage, Reborn was going to have his first lost student. Not even Dino had been this troublesome.

“We got good news and bad news,” Tsuna brightly reassured.

“What's the bad news?”

“Erm...”

“The Vindice want you back,” Reborn blandly stated.

Mukuro snorted. “Is there any good news to be derived from this?”

“They're willing to overlook the role of Kakimoto, Joshima, M.M. and Lancia in the light that they escaped under your command, and since no other criminal actions have been taken to warrant-” Tsuna leant towards Ietsuna's clipboard, “-'the attention of civilian authorities above the local'. They've also agreed to revise your case in light of the new information given with regards of the details. That's the good news.”

“You have to settle things in person, but the main idea is to make wrongs be set right,” Reborn chirped. “Isn't that nice?”

“I don't want to hear that from you, Arcobaleno,” Mukuro snapped. “One of the seven strongest infants, cursed into an un-ageing body, and the reputed strongest of the current generation. I don't trust you, especially since you're apparently too blind to notice what's under your face.”

Reborn remained silent.

“...Oh,” Mukuro's lips curved into a smirk at the silence. “I see. You _yourself_ didn't know, Sawada Ietsuna.”

“What?” Tsuna spoke up.

Ietsuna laughed. “According to this guy, I'm a walking corpse.”

A beat.

There were a multitude of non-verbal messages communicated in the span of this beat, which did not cover even a half-second. For one, it was all in the eyes, be they amber or heterochromic or onyx or caramel. Ietsuna's eyes challenged, Mukuro dismissed the challenge, Reborn's was silent contemplation, and Tsuna's caramel orbs reflected only confusion.

“We relieved you of the Possession Bullet,” Reborn spoke up. “I suppose you tried to use it on Ietsuna.”

“The Possession Bullet?” Tsuna echoed.

“As the name says, it allows the user to take control of another's body,” Reborn explained. “It was a special bullet created by the Estraneo Family. Not only does the user need a strong spirit, he must also be suited for the bullet.”

“Then that's more than simple mind control,” Ietsuna speculated. “But I don't feel like injuring anyone, and I still have full control of it.”

“I have no interest in possessing a body without a central nervous system,” Mukuro gloated at the revelation that came at his hand. “In fact, I find your existence remarkable and untrustworthy at the same time.”

“The nervous system is the part of an animal's body that coordinates its voluntary and involuntary actions and transmits signals between different parts of its body,” Reborn replied. “It'd be much difficult for you to coordinate the body like that. But, that implies-”

“-that the subject is dead, yes?” Mukuro grinned. “I think you have more things to worry about between yourselves than with the Kokuyo Gang.”

“I am here, I am talking to you, and I will plant my boot into your skull if you insist that I am dead,” Ietsuna summed up his rebuttal. “The fact of my self-expression proves that, for the purpose of argument, I am not only alive, but I have every opportunity to demonstrate that in this physical world. With that settled, I see that you rejected our offer. You may expect the Vindice's appearance upon the completion of your treatment.”

“For the purpose of argument, you are alive,” Mukuro admitted, undaunted by the threat and enjoying himself. “However, I can tell you this: your brain is essentially dead. There are no chemical process in your body. No signalling or control mechanisms. Physiologically, you _should_ be dead. The only reason you remain alive is because of the bond between you twins.”

“Bond?” Tsuna echoed.

“What do you mean?” Reborn growled, almost frustrated.

“Kufufu,” Mukuro smirked. “There is no need to lie when the truth can hurt you more. With that amount of Dying Will Flames, your town should be a crater already. The only reason it did not is because those Flames sustained your corpse-like body to live and grow, harmonising it with the flow of the world. Yes, like the myth about the legendary twins; when Castor was killed, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together for eternity.”

“That's... not possible,” Tsuna shook his head. “Ie is right here. He's... he can touch, he can feel, he can see and he can express himself... he can paint!”

“Paint... since we were discussing art that night...” Mukuro mused, “...how about a little art jargon? The ancient Greeks did not associate the colour blue with their deities. Blue, to them, was no more a colour than a _shade_ ; a derivative of black.1”

His lone blue eye glittered. “In the ancient world, blue was a breed of darkness.”

“That's true,” Ietsuna agreed. “So, shall we continue? Or shall we drop this farce, Rokudo Mukuro? You and I know the only possible outcome.”

“Very well,” Mukuro dismissed. “It seems I have broken one of the young Vongola, and actually my favourite one now. I believe the Arcobaleno has realised it too.”

“Ah,” Reborn murmured. “The only outcome to continue, is to return you to Vendicare, and lobby for your release from outside.”

“We'll continue this another time,” Ietsuna looped one arm around his stricken twin. “I don't have the motivation to do this anymore today.”

“And you were so eager to throw my fate to arbitration,” Mukuro observed, a touch coldly.

Ietsuna looked at him. Whatever Mukuro saw, it was enough to prompt the illusionist to ready indigo Flame along his cursed eye.

“I did this only for Tsuna,” was the blank, matter-of-fact reply. “I got the drop on your gang, because you would have attacked him sooner than track me down.”

“And the Vongola?”

A smile. “I don't care. There's a book in the drawer, by the way. Maître left it there.”

Mukuro smiled, after a fashion, hefting the loosely bound _Mahabharata_ in his hand. The leaves of Bible paper weighed heavily in his hand, like a small weapon that would hamper Mukuro more than anyone on the receiving end. With a shrug, he began reading. It proved, at least, to be diverting.

* * *

“It's not exactly disturbing.”

Tsuna had been dragged to the hospital's roof before he snapped out of the stupor. Ietsuna was perched by a bench, fiddling with his drawing charcoal and a scrap of paper while talking. Reborn was nowhere to be found.

“It's not exactly disturbing,” Ietsuna commented.

“Ie... how long did you take to realise that?” Tsuna asked, albeit calmly. “Whatever Rokudo Mukuro said...”

“...” there was a _scrap_. “The fact that you are asking means that you _don't_ want confirmation. You want me to lie to you.”

“We're twins,” Tsuna glumly admitted. “We know each other more than anyone else in the world. Yet... if that was true, how did I not realise this fact?! Why didn't I realise it sooner?”

Ietsuna snorted. “You're so nice, Tsuna. Most people would be asking 'why didn't I tell you?'”

“Because... because I've always been relying on you,” Tsuna nodded. “But I don't consider Ie to be dead, because you're here and you can see and you can argue for yourself... more than anything, Ie is Ie, my twin brother. One of my precious people.”

Ietsuna continued sketching. “Rokudo said that I'm living off your Dying Will Flames, right? Maybe that explains why I can freeze things; from a thermodynamic perspective all that energy goes to you. In that case the laws of entropy that governs our... connection must have a gatekeeper in order to violate thermodynamics.”

“Ie, can you be more serious about this?”

Amber eyes switched to him, the amber set in his own face. “But I am serious. I am treating this with the seriousness it deserves. That is, because it comes from the pineapple fairy, it deserves none.”

Tsuna made a choking noise that sounded like laughter. “That's not nice! And, don't change the subject!”

Ietsuna chuckled, one thumb out to judge the perspective. “I'm here, aren't I? That means I can't be dead. What does that even mean, a zombie? This is a zombie?”

“T- That's true...” Tsuna chuckled. “If Ie was dead... no, if Ie died, I won't know what to do with myself. I'm just no good at life. Maybe I should become Decimo. Ie can stun the world, while I watch his back. This face... maybe there's something valuable in this face we share.”

Something in those words, some unheard melancholy, forced the charcoal to drop. Tsuna blinked as he was suddenly shaken, two hands clapped onto his shoulders and the charcoal-covered fingers staining them.

“Tsuna, you have worth,” Caramel met frosty flint-like amber, and was sliced apart. “Grandpa saved us at the cost of his life. Doesn't that prove that we have value? Even more so, shouldn't you treasure your life?! In this world, only one is my twin. Never shall his worth ever change.”

“I- I know!” Tsuna's shoulders bunched. “But Ie is so talented, in academics and sports, and in art- I just don't measure up. That's why I always had Ie protecting me...”

“No,” was the firm declaration. “Your worth is in your moral compass. You can find it in yourself to forgive Gokudera, Mukuro and that fetish-pervert.”

“Fetish-per-”

“Never mind that,” Ietsuna insisted. “I just... I wish for your happiness... even if it's narcissistic.”

Tsuna flushed a deep scarlet. “I'm not narcissistic!”

“The girl you had a crush on looks like your identical twin. You don't have a leg to stand on.” Ietsuna paused. “Come to think of it, I should ask Sasagawa. We could pose as triplets.”

“Don't decide to increase our family size on your own!” Tsuna yelled back.

They exchanged looks, before breaking out into laughter. The dead cannot laugh, cannot speak, and cannot decide... it is only the living who, through their interactions and laughter, become reborn.

“You know,” Ietsuna chuckled, lying on his stomach and staring up into the sky next to Tsuna, “Rokudo's just managed to prove that there's an intangible connection between the two of us.”

“So... it's a bond?” Tsuna mused. “We'll be together always, then! Ietsuna and Tsunayoshi...”

“Until Maître convinces Kaa-san that you should become a Hibari,” Ietsuna interjected.

“Oh, Ie!” came the exasperation. “Well, we have to find Rokudo Mukuro-san again...”

“Sawada Ietsuna,” came the interjection from Hibari when both twins dumped the Rokudo case report on his desk two days later. “Your armband.”

Ietsuna scowled, switching the red armband of membership onto his right arm. “How the hell do you always manage to tell us apart, Hibari?! You didn't even know us when we met!”

“Well, Ie,” Tsuna dissuaded, “Hibari-san is Hibari-san. Because Hibari-san is a carnivore...”

“...”

Twin and chairman watched as Tsuna's head steamed and turned scarlet as he thought about the problem. It looked painful.

“...because carnivores can sense out the weakest prey!”

Tsuna's triumphant conclusion actually caused Kusakabe to stare at him, the vice-chair having just entered the Reception Room.

“No.” Hibari's curt reply deflated Tsuna like a balloon. “It's because skylarks are diurnal birds.”

“-.-'... I see... but I don't see....”

“You'll know if you think about it.”

Neither of them thought about this conclusion. Ietsuna was at the gym when he actually considered it.

“That bastard!” The body-shaped punching bag flew off its cord and impacted on the far wall. “He's saying that we're as different as day and night! _Va te faire foutre!_ ”

Supervising the gym's workings, Alouette paused as her student began to curse her grandson. “Ah, they're such great friends...”

* * *

“End-of-year matters are so difficult to arrange...” Tsuna complained once the years turned to late March, when the school year had just ended and there was a week break before it turned to April. “How on earth does the Disciplinary Committee manage all those matters?”

Gokudera was wearing glasses, and they were temporarily askew as Gokudera proclaimed: “Tenth, I'll go and blow up the place immediately!”

“That's fine, Gokudera-kun...” Tsuna yawned, munching on a harshly defended breakfast. “I want to sleep...”

“Overworking is no good,” Reborn pointed out. “You need to take some time to rest, Tsuna.”

“Say,” Tsuna stared at him. “How come you're worried about me, but not about Ie?”

“Because Reborn hates me,” Ietsuna patiently replied, munching on his toast. “I-Pin, miso.”

I-Pin slapped away Lambo's thieving hand. “Waa, Ie-nii!”

“Make sure to steal without being detected next time.”

“Tsuna-nii!”

“Lambo, stealing food is bad.”

“Tsu-kun, Na-kun!” Nana chirped. “We won a prize from a magazine contest! It's a trip to a South Sea island by cruise ship!”

“ _Go by yourself, Kaa-san_ ,” both twins spoke immediately together.

“Twins are really strange creatures...” Bianchi commented in the middle of feeding Reborn.

“UMAs...” Gokudera fairly sparkled.

“B- But, the tickets are for three,” Nana persuaded. “Y- You wouldn't leave Kaa-san alone for this... right?”

“You can't leave Lambo, I-Pin, Fuuta and these two tutors alone at home either,” Ietsuna pointed out. “'Sides, you can go on a small honeymoon with Dad, or find another friend. Or, you could take Reborn and Bianchi along for them to improve their romantic relationship too.”

“Ietsuna...” Bianchi's eyes sparkled. “You're actually a good person...”

“Y- You're right! Na-kun is so sensible!” Nana smiled hollowly. “How long has it been since our last vacation as a family...?”

“You mean, counting the zoo trip that ended with trauma, the seaside trip that ended with trauma again, or the camping trip that ended with trauma?” Ietsuna asked. “I don't know.”

“Don't speak that way about your father, Na-kun!”

Fuuta dropped his chopsticks. “Mama can get angry?!”

“Why?”

“W- Well...” Nana faltered under the heavy amber gaze that seemed sparkling with false innocence. “He's busy with work, so there's nothing we can do. Travelling around, digging for oil, the sturdy man of the earth that's your Papa...”

“I didn't realise men of the earth who direct traffic at construction sites also dig for oil,” Ietsuna flippantly replied. “I think one needs a degree in chemical engineering to do that. I guess it'd be very helpful in the South Pole with the penguins. And, last time, didn't he say that he went to become a star? So many inconsistent stories... there's only one possibility, and you thought about it when Reborn appeared. You could do so much better, Kaa-san, and you don't even realise that he's ch-”

Tsuna stood up. “Ie, you don't have to say any more. Kaa-san, sit down. Do you need some water?”

“...yes.” Nana listlessly echoed.

“Ie-nii is brutal,” Lambo whispered to Fuuta as Tsuna bustled to the kitchen counter.

“Ie-nii is ranked number one in delivering truths brutally,” Fuuta agreed glumly. “Ie-nii is also ranked number one in never lying...”

“ _Aiyah_ , Gēgē is too honest,” I-Pin agreed.

“Brutally honest,” Reborn echoed.

“True...” Bianchi commented, her eyes sliding towards Gokudera, who was regarding Ietsuna with something akin to hero-worship. “I wonder...”

“I'm going off,” Ietsuna stood up. “I'm not going to be back for dinner.”

“Yes... have a safe trip, Na-kun,” Nana sniffed. “I... for a moment there, I thought I was talking to my father-in-law...”

“Eh?” Fuuta stared. “So... Tsuna-nii and Ie-nii's grandfather?”

“Yes,” Nana nodded. “Ietsuna-san was pretty strict~! But he had his good points. He was worried that young women like me being chained to the home was no good, but Darling managed to convince him... somehow. Ietsuna-san even scolded his own son so much. Ietsuna-san would have stayed under our roof as well, you know. He offered his help so much...”

Nana heaved a sigh. “Sometimes, it feels like Na-kun is Ietsuna-san. In that sense, Ietsuna-san never really left us.”

Reborn's eyes were shadowed. “I see. Don't worry, Mama. I'll talk Ietsuna round.”

“You can't do it directly,” Nana cautioned. “Because in this entire world, Na-kun only loves Tsu-kun, even above himself.”

“Ah, thanks.”

_**1 The ancient Greeks classified colours by whether they were light or dark, rather than by their hue. The Greek word for dark blue, ** _ **kyaneos** **_, could also mean dark green, violet, black or brown. The ancient Greek word for a light blue,_ glaukos _, also could mean light green, grey, or yellow._ **


	13. Folio 12: Trompe-l'œil

“I really don't understand.”

Hana lifted her head from the translated copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_. “About what?”

Ietsuna sat with her in the library as they filled out the cards and stamped old books. Ietsuna was currently thumbing through _Slaughterhouse-Five_. “My mother. She can do so much better and she sticks to the idiot monkey who's never home. Thinking about it with a clear head, feeling such deep emotions towards some other person you don't even know is truly terrifying.”

Hana frowned, setting down the book. “What makes you think I know?”

“Mmm... Lancia and you,” Ietsuna pointed out.

A blush coloured her cheeks, but Hana did not deny anything. “We're just... getting to know each other! He's... a kind man, but he's not... ready for a relationship. So he said... and... other things. That maturity...”

“Eh,” Ietsuna just blinked. “Anyway, I'll be killed by the home tutor for backtalk. But I was totally serious, Kurokawa.”

“So you have this side as well...” Hana smiled lightly behind her book. “You're less of a monkey than I thought. Well, you're Sawada's twin, so I guess there was something to all that discipline Hibari harps about. Otherwise you wouldn't be here during the holidays.”

“I'm here because Lancia asked,” Ietsuna clarified, rifling through the catalogue to stamp a book. “I could leave you here alone.”

“Your humour is bad as always,” Hana sighed as she caught the book tossed in her direction. “What's this?”

“You've been having nightmares, right?” Ietsuna sneezed as he opened the next book. “If you take out the time travel and toilet-plunger aliens, you got a PTSD story. Might help.”

“...thanks,” Hana rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “About your mother... it's not my place to say anything, but you might want to go home and talk it out.”

“...I like the first chapter,” Ietsuna changed the subject. “Quote: ' _And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human._ '”

“Just... that?”

He smiled. “' _So she was turned into a pillar of salt. So it goes._ '”

Hana backed slightly at the sudden-onset chill that descended. “Are you-”

The door opened. “Ietsuna-san,” the Regent-style prefect saluted. “Mochida of the Kendo club is challenging Sasagawa again.”

“I got it,” Ietsuna stood up. “You were saying, Kurokawa?”

“Nothing,” Hana dismissed. “I'm just surprised that you came to school and left your darling brother at home.”

“Tsuna?” Ietsuna echoed. “I think... I might have pushed him a bit too much. Well, catch you later, Kurokawa.”

“Huh,” Hana nodded as the prefects left her alone. “I knew it. That bro-con wouldn't feel anything like that for his mother, but for his brother? He'd probably rise from the dead.”

Upon just arriving at the school entrance, Tsuna put his face in his hands when the guard prefect on duty told him about Mochida. “Ie is handling it? Oh, no. I thought Mochida-sempai graduated!”

“Tenth?” Gokudera asked while trotting behind Tsuna.

“I love my brother, but he can be very vicious,” Tsuna swallowed, already pacing at a jog for the school gymnasium.

There was a minor crowd of boys in Kendo armour, and in the centre of it was Ietsuna studying a _shinai_ in his hand.

“So, the bet's like this,” Mochida was explaining. “Right now, you guys say that we're crowding. I say the opposite, especially since I'm an alumnus of the school, and I'm going to Namimori High next year. If I win, you guys let the Kendo club bring outsiders onto school grounds. If you win... well, I guess we leave this matter behind.”

“No matter what, the Kendo Club benefits,” Ietsuna observed, hefting the _shinai_. “I'm fine with it.”

“Ie!” Tsuna called out. “Permanent injury is not allowed!”

Aside from a slight incline of the head, Ietsuna gave no response.

“Begin!”

Down came the flag, at the same time Ietsuna vaulted and cracked the shinai down. The _latéral extérieur_ was a wet slap that echoed with a pained scream.

“Down... in one hit...” Gokudera stared. “Really brutal...”

“Well?” Amber eyes steadily regarded the shaking referee. “I have to hit him again? You'll have to clean the floor if I do.”

“W- Winner is the Disciplinary Committee!” Up went the red flag.

“M- m- monster...” Mochida clutched at his broken leg. “You broke my leg!”

“'Those who are accustomed to judge by feeling, do not understand the process of reasoning, for they would understand at first sight, and are not used to seek for principles'1,” Ietsuna scowled. “Pascal is wasted on you, Mochida-sempai. Five weeks in a cast, no permanent injury. Of course, if you'd prefer to retire completely from the Kendo scene, we can oblige you.”

“Y- You switched your hands!” Mochida yelled. “I thought you were a boxer!”

“But I don't do Kendo,” Ietsuna pointed out, easily hefting the _shinai_. “I am, however, proficient in Savate. Coincidentally, that includes _Canne chausson_. Whenever did you think this was a Kendo match? In fact, this has long ceased to be one.”

The juniors of the Kendo club, while not as proficient in the ways of the sword like their currently injured senior, knew exactly who held the strings over the Disciplinary Committee's officer slate. “S- Sawada-san, please help us!”

“What happened...?”

“Oi, Mochida! I am going to extremely punch you out for harassing Kyoko-” Sasagawa Ryohei took in the scene mid-holler, and immediately nodded. “Join the Boxing Club, Sawada!”

The shinai dropped with a clatter, and Ryohei's face meshed under a rubber-soled shoe.

“Is this a fight, Tenth's twin?!”

“Gokudera-kun!” Tsuna freaked.

“What's going on?” the baseball ace pouted. “It looks fun!”

“Yamamoto-kun!” Tsuna spoke as the baseball ace strolled towards them, still in his baseball blues. “Right, it's the March holiday practise... how is your arm?”

“Great! I gotta thank Ietsuna and you,” Yamamoto grinned, slapping a hand on Tsuna's shoulder. “We're friends, right?”

“What are you doing so close to the Tenth, Baseball Idiot?!”

“I'll bring him to the hospital.”

“Ah, wait! Ie...” Tsuna faltered. “Erm... do you need me to come along?”

“Sorry... leave me alone for a while.”

“Oh...” Tsuna paused. “Will you be back for dinner? We can... talk about the trip.”

“...fine.”

“Thank you, Ie.” Tsuna smiled out of gratitude.

Ietsuna just waved. “Gokudera. Yamamoto. I'll leave Tsuna in your care for a bit.”

“Yes, Tenth's twin!”

“Leave it to me, Ietsuna!”

There was a snort. “'And others, on the contrary, who are accustomed to reason from principles, do not at all understand matters of feeling, seeking principles, and being unable to see at a glance.'2”

* * *

The hospital trip was fairly standard, if it counted Mochida attempting to press charges and being dissuaded only with Hibari's personal confirmation of the right to inflict severe injury while on duty. Ietsuna, though, found himself strolling through the maternity wing as a short-cut to the main entrance after being faced with a faulty sign on the lift doors.

“Oh,” one of a pair of older nurses commented as she passed. “It's one of the twins the old man rescued?”

“Which old man?”

“That old man, Sawada Ietsuna, you know. Those truly adorable twins! So sad about one of them...”

“Eh? But both twins survived the fire.”

“Ah, was it? Must have been my imagination...”

“Erm...”

“Yes?” the nurse blinked.

“About those twins that survived the fire...” Ietsuna murmured, smiling apologetically. “...could you tell me about it? I'm from the Disciplinary Committee, and we need to update our incident database, you see.”

“Ah...” the nurse looked taken aback. “I see, it's for Hibari-sama. Well, there was a fire here at the hospital fourteen years ago. I was in charge of evacuating the babies. The old man took the corp- I mean, the younger twin, from my hand, and the older twin, and risked his life to get them out. I heard that he jumped from the third floor to get them out! I'm so glad to be wrong.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, it's nothing... I just thought SIDS happened to another poor baby. I've never been more glad to be wrong...”3

“Oh...” Ietsuna was not looking at her anymore. “...so it goes. I just remembered something.”

It was definitely not the way home, what he recalled; his feet just carried him there. There was a neat walkway leading to the Sawada house. There was nearly kept grass and a small garden within brick walls. There was no bullet hole where he'd shot himself in the head with a gun found in his father's luggage; found by his five-year-old self, in the unpacked luggage, in the laundry room, years ago.

_It makes bang noises and scares Chihuahuas away..._

“...what the hell...” Ietsuna stood outside of the house, watching the storm clouds overhead crackle and break to release their deluge upon Namimori and him. “What the hell is this fate?”

The spatter of raindrops touched his skin, and no goose pimples rose in response. The water as it flooded his nose and mouth bore no traces or feeling, except annoyance. Only the patter of water on grounds and more water, as puddles formed, and the sight of the lines descending from heaven, made sense as a picture that it was raining. The smell of petrichor was unknown to him. Touch, taste and smell were unknown entities to a being who did not have the senses to taste them; even tears were an unknown touch to him.

Chips of ice broke as they impacted on the stone path from their perch next to amber eyes.

“From the moment we were born... the time we started talking... the time we started school... always together. For meals, for class, for the Committee... we're always together.” More ice chips melted under the barrage of raindrops. “Under this dark sky... I thought that we'd die together as well. How am I still here? Why am I still here... how long more? What is up with this world? What's great about being alive?! I don't understand!”

The rain that sluiced down was suddenly blocked, and strong arms carrying heat wrapped around him.

“Ie?” his twin asked, concern apparent in every gesture. “Ie, are you alright? Lancia-san said that you just walked past him. Are you cold? Actually, what are you doing out in the heavy rain?! Gokudera-kun, help me.”

“No...”

Fire began to flare and melt the ice, even the frost that stuck to him. “Is this some sick joke of Reborn's?! You could have died of cold!”

“I... not yet... this bond is here...”

“Bond or not, you have to take care of yourself,” Tsuna insisted. “Why are you so cold?”

“Tsuna... is warm...” Liquid soaked into Tsuna's jacket vest as it dropped from Ietsuna's face. “Tsuna... I think I’ve done something bad.”

“Well, at least you understand, Ie,” Tsuna nodded. “So, why don't we get you dried and warm before we start packing for the trip?”

“That wasn't-” Ietsuna stopped, eyes widening as they ascended the steps to their room. “Oh. Castor and Pollux.”

_The only reason it did not is because those Flames sustained your corpse-like body to live and grow, harmonising it with the flow of the world. Yes, like the myth about the legendary twins; when Castor was killed, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together for eternity..._

“I didn't realise that you could see the stars, though,” Tsuna commented as he put a towel on his brother's head.

“Tsuna... dry my hair for me.”

“You're not a child.”

“Can't a younger brother ask his older brother to dry his hair?”

“Don't change your status so easily,” Tsuna chided, but relented as Ietsuna relaxed into the motions. “You've got to apologise to Kaa-san later. Dad might not always be around, but he loves us... probably.”

By the sidelines, Gokudera was discreetly wiping away a tear – and part of a nosebleed. “What brotherly love...”

* * *

Nana was so happy when Ietsuna walked up to her and said “Sorry” in the most wooden voice Reborn had heard, and he had met talking puppets. She was so happy that the twins were dragged along to the trip. The trip which, as Reborn discovered only ten minutes ago, had the Ninth and his Lightning Guardian onboard as well.

“ _Buon giorno_ , Reborn,” Timoteo offered to the hitman tutor. “I see you've started the usual chaos.”

Dynamite blew up in the distance. All three hitmen – for the Ninth was nearly always accompanied by Ganauche nowadays –

“Nono,” Reborn greeted. “Tsuna pretty much meets your expectations. His twin acts needy enough for the both of them, but is the stronger in combat. It's hard to determine which has the aptitude to be the better Boss, since they complement each other.”

“Is that so?” Timoteo nodded. “That's nice. Brothers should stand together for the Family.”

“But the position of Boss is a different story,” Reborn pointed out. “And, about Ietsuna... I have reason to believe that he is-”

“I know.”

“...you knew, Nono?” Anyone who had heard it would have fled, for Reborn sounded incensed.

“Not until you told me of the salient facts a month ago, but I had suspicions,” Timoteo admitted, staring out across the dark blue of the Pacific Ocean. “There is only one man, whom I called a friend, who has ever ordered me out of his house even after knowing who I was. I missed him even before I found out that we were related by blood. It's a strange fate, but I can't help but feel thankful that his Dying Will lives on to watch over his family. I hope that he can forgive me.”

“Ietsuna is drawing on the stern,” Reborn pointed.

“Perhaps not now, Reborn, but thank you.” Timoteo took a deep breath. “

“Hmph,” Reborn looked at the Ninth, and then turned to Ganauche. “Want to have a look at your predecessor?”

“He's still alive?” the Ninth's youngest Guardian frowned. “Visconti said that he died.”

“Visconti wishes,” Reborn dismissed the Ninth's Cloud Guardian. “ _Il Magnifico_ was the strongest Guardian up to the sixties, when he retired and completely disappeared from the Mafia world. The prospective heir is his blood grandson.”

“Oh?”

Ganauche's interest peaked, Reborn thus lured the Lightning towards the stern. There was a boy with brown hair there, sketch pad balanced on his lap. The loose collared shirt the boy wore was tugged here and there by the sea winds, belying a wiry build. The boy's back was turned towards them.

Leon transformed into a gun, which Reborn fired without warning. Ganauche was about to yell out when the boy dropped back, legs hooked over the railings to safely dodge the bullets aimed for his head. The piercing amber eyes glared at them.

Then, Ganauche realised that Reborn's gun was in his hand.

“I didn't do it,” Reborn's face remained smiling even as he lied swiftly and without remorse. “He made me lead him to you.”

“Reborn...” the boy growled, the eyes moving to him. “You're a liar. Is this a test?”

“Yes.” The lie collapsed to be replaced with brutal honesty.

“W- Well, what can a shorty like you do?” Ganauche sighed, resigned to a fight since Reborn had willed it so.

“I don't like fighting,” His soles screeched as the boy decisively flipped onto the deck. “Whatever happens next... sorry.”

Ganauche would have shot. He would have shot, not caring about the consequences. He was unfortunately on a ship, which chose that moment to tilt, and that was when Ietsuna moved.

Savate had been invented by sailors, after all.

A walking stick tapped decisively, and Timoteo's face look like it had been carved in granite as he looked from the small crater at the ship's bow, to the boy who was dropping down from the stern's railings after using them to deliver a vaulted mid-air two-legged stomp kick at the Ninth's Guardian. Reborn, uncaring that his student had just attacked a Vongola Guardian, simply watched.

“Nice kick.” Timoteo allowed. “Was that Savate?”

“Er, not really,” the boy nodded, staring at him. “Do you need something, Jii-san4?”

“I'm surprised. Youngsters like your type don't usually go for such a martial art.”

“Yeah.” No further reply.

“As one savateur to another, a ship like this is an ideal practice ground,” the Boss offered. “Are you free now, boy?”

“Sorry, Jii-san,” Ietsuna considered when incoherent yells of rage filtered into the air. “Looks like my party's in trouble.”

“Maybe next time,” Timoteo smiled. “Your name?”

“Ietsuna,” was the clipped reply. “See you around, Jii-san.”

“You could have forced a fight, Nono,” Reborn commented once Ietsuna had left.

Timoteo shook his head. “I would rather face him without obstacles or distractions. We are approaching Mafia Land soon. Besides... Ganauche, you need to learn not to underestimate others.”

The crater moved, and the young Guardian grimaced, sweeping aside some stray dust on his lapels. There was not a scratch on him, though he still moved rather gingerly. “Yes, Boss.”

* * *

Somehow, the twins found themselves registering at the hub of Mafia Land. At least, Tsuna was trying to, but his twin was caught up with the centrepiece of the reception hall.

“That's _The Adoration_ 5,” Ietsuna stood in awe of the very large painting. “Caravaggio's _The Nativity with St Francis and St. Lawrence_.”

To humour his twin, Tsuna regarded the painting. “It looks like everyone staring at a naked baby.”

[](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Michelangelo_Caravaggio_035.jpg#/media/File:Michelangelo_Caravaggio_035.jpg)  
"[Michelangelo Caravaggio 035](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Michelangelo_Caravaggio_035.jpg#/media/File:Michelangelo_Caravaggio_035.jpg)" by [Caravaggio](//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caravaggio) \- The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei. DVD-ROM, 2002. ISBN 3936122202. Distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH.. Licensed under Public Domain via [Wikimedia Commons](//commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/).

“It _is_ ,” Ietsuna admitted, pointing to the right and left of the painting. “It shows the birth of Jesus Christ, with two extra figures that historically don't appear at that time; St Francis of Assisi, and St Lawrence of Rome. There's no haloes, or symbols, or veneration, only the angel's presence to show that the Christian saviour is born. The placement is not traditional, there's nothing to venerate. We know that this is a moment that has literally marked the world, but Caravaggio showed it as a family moment. It's very dramatic, isn't it?”

“Ie... your hands are shaking.” Tsuna observed.

“This painting was also stolen, possibly by the Mafia, in 1969,” Ietsuna breathed. “It's one of the world's most famous unrecovered stolen paintings, with an estimated value of twenty million US dollars.”

“T- Twenty-”

“Slightly over twenty-four million yen,” Ietsuna corrected. “I forgot you're bad at maths.”

“That's a seriously expensive painting!” Tsuna exclaimed. “You know... all those people, they look like something great was delivered to them, but it's a baby. It's so small.”

“Great things come in small packages,” Ietsuna pointed out. “That's the whole subject of the painting. All of these people – the man, the shepherd, the mother, the saints – they've been waiting for this boy, and he's finally _here_. It's not real, but it's inspiring and humbling, right?”

“You're right,” Tsuna nodded. “I think I'll go register for us. You stay here and look at the famous stolen painting a bit more.”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Ietsuna perked up.

“I'm glad you found something to appreciate by coming here, Ie,” Tsuna beamed. “You should take the chance to appreciate it.”

“But, Tsuna, this is Mafia-”

“I'll be fine, Ie,” Tsuna waved, going to the reception counter alone. “See you!”

Glumly, Ietsuna turned back to look at the piece.

“It's beautiful, right?” the old man was back.

Ietsuna was still drinking, his eyes tracing the angel of annunciation carrying the banner of announcement, towards the holy virgin attended to by the saints of Italy. “It is.”

“You really do know your art, Ietsuna-kun,” the old man chipped in. “I'm sorry, my name is Timoteo.”

“Timoteo... -san,” Ietsuna nodded. “Sorry for leaving you so suddenly.”

“It's alright,” Timoteo smiled, looking back to the painting with weary eyes. “The Vongola Ninth commissioned the theft, apparently for a great friend of his.”

“Then... what happened?” Ietsuna asked politely.

“Fate intervened,” Timoteo reflected. “It was put here in 1980. It should have been left in the church. Instead, it stays here to welcome all who come to Mafia Land. Religious contemplation is, on hindsight, not the activity for an amusement park.”

Ietsuna coughed. “Part of it is a joke, you know. The painting.”

“A joke?” Timoteo enquired.

“St Lawrence,” Ietsuna waved. “Patron saint of cooks and chefs, because he was roasted to death for not handing over church funds to the Roman prefects. His last words were supposedly 'It's cooked – turn and eat'.”

“I'm afraid the joke is-” Timoteo's face suddenly lit up. “ _Oh_. That's a terrible joke.”

“Biting people?” Ietsuna posed.

“That, and making fun of Catholic saints in general,” Timoteo's smile was fond, despite being surrounded by Mafiosi. “That's terrible.”

“I think it's accessible,” Ietsuna reflected. “Why did the Vongola Ninth choose this painting, anyway?”

“' _Ne la natività ritrovato ho lo meo verde, lo meo bel rutilante verde,_ '” Timoteo quoted. “The colour of the sun on Joseph's green mantle was a reminder of that friend... The beautiful green.”

“And... what happened to the friend?”

Timoteo remained gravely silent, and the odd pair contemplated the birth of Christ for a few more moments.

“He's not here...” Ietsuna turned to the absorbed Timoteo. “Sorry, Jii-san. I have to find my brother. See you around!”

Still there was no reply, until the alarms cracked and the invasion of the Carcassa Familgia was announced. It was in an emptied only to the back of Joseph, whose face was turned away, that the admission came in a small voice:

“He died.”

* * *

 

_**1 Pascal's Pensées, Chapter 1** _

_**2 See Note 1** _

_**3 Sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS), also known as cot death or crib death, is the sudden unexplained death of a child less than one year of age. It requires that the death remains unexplained even after a thorough autopsy and detailed death scene investigation. SIDS usually occurs during sleep. There is usually no evidence of struggle and no noise produced.** _

_**4 Jii-san: can be interpreted as 'old man' or 'uncle'.** _

_**5 The Nativity with St. Francis and St. Lawrence (also known as The Adoration) is a painting believed to have been created in 1609 by the Italian Baroque master Caravaggio. It was stolen on October 18, 1969 from the Oratory of San Lorenzo in Palermo, Sicily. The local Sicilian Mafia are generally considered to be the prime culprits in the theft although nobody actually knows who committed the crime.** _


	14. Folio 13: Carnation

Usually, the general affairs manager of a student-formed committee was the designated gopher. They ran for drinks, they stocked the rooms, they did the heavy lifting. Yet, none of them faced as many hazards as the general affairs manager of the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee. Apparently, general affairs managers in the Namimori Middle School Disciplinary Committee were required to take some form of combat training – which should really tell you everything about the committee. In ten minutes, Reborn was marginally impressed by Tsuna's performance. Even if most of said combat performance was dodging all the blows from Colonello and himself.

“I really can't afford to get injured now,” Tsuna ducks under a flying kick from Reborn, and rolled on the ground to avoid Colonello's pistol-whip and clamber back onto his feet.

“Injuries are part and parcel of training, idiot,” Reborn scolded. He would have used Leon, but the chameleon was being fickle at the moment.

“I really can't afford to be injured,” Tsuna repeated. “Ie would flip out. Also, this was supposed to be our family trip.”

“Yeah, this is a trip with your Family,” Reborn pointed out. “Gokudera and Yamamoto are part of the Family as well.”

Tsuna sighed, missing the running jump that Colonello was taking behind him. The blond baby was kicked away by his own twin's dynamic entry. The noise caused Tsuna to turn around.

“I told you, Tsuna,” Ietsuna spoke through gritted teeth, already having landed on his feet as Colonello was still sailing into a coconut palm. Gokudera and Yamamoto flanked him, the trio having taken the rail to locate Tsuna from the main amusement park, only to find Tsuna getting bullied by the two baby hitmen. “This is Mafia Land. Reborn's face is printed on a _balloon_. There is absolutely _no way_ this was meant as a relaxing holiday for us.”

“Sorry, Ie,” Tsuna sniffed, shivering. “It's my fault. If I didn't ask you to come along, none of this would have happened...”

“Tenth!” Gokudera dashed towards him. “I'm so glad we managed to locate you! I was so worried when you went missing from the reception room while Ietsuna-sama was distracted, I nearly threw up!”

“Er, Gokudera-kun, I was just registering...”

“Oh, what's this? An event game?” Yamamoto chuckled. “It looks fun! Who's the other baby?”

“Who cares!” Ietsuna shot back. “I saw a Caravaggio! Do you know how rare that chance was?!”

“What are you saying?” Reborn chided Tsuna. “You now have some good memories of this place. This is the special case I told you about earlier, Colonello.”

“He looks like he's worth training, hey,” the blond baby in military camouflage grinned at Ietsuna, before jumping and lashing out with a kick to Ietsuna's face. A palette knife was brought up in time, drawing blood.

“What is the meaning of this?” Ietsuna growled.

Colonello considered the gash in his trousers. “You've done it now, hey!”

“It's your fault for getting injured, Colonello,” Reborn unapologetically replied with a smirk.

“Do you know about thermal expansion, Reborn?” Ietsuna spoke through clenched teeth.

The smirk faded somewhat, wiped away like steam from the boiling tea that Reborn had gotten a faceful of during his last fateful trip in the ventilation system of Namimori Middle. The third-degree burn had not been fun, especially since Reborn had been sneaking around in the school's vents, and someone had poured the tea down from the roof, knowing that the vents would expand due to the high heat and attract the assassin's attention. It was Reborn's first major mistake, and the hitman now knew that Ietsuna had been putting the pressure on him with this low-chance but low-key assassination attempt. Ietsuna was now playing at the most dangerous game, and Reborn was the target.

“I'm sorry, Ie,” Tsuna pleaded with his twin. “I failed the Mafioso examination, since we didn't have a nomination or invitation... please don't ask Kaa-san...”

“Did you use his name at the reception counter?” Ietsuna pointed down at Reborn.

“N- No...” Tsuna shrank slightly, tears forming in his eyes. “It should've been obvious, I'm sorry! It's my fault. Our family vacation is ruined...”

“Oi, hey!” Colonello snapped. “Are you done ignoring us?!”

Ietsuna whirled around, but his reply was interrupted by the start of a continuous whine of sirens, scattered across the surprisingly varied landscape of Mafia Land. “ _Enemy attack! Enemy attack! Everyone, please evacuate to the shelters!_ ”

“Enemy attack?” Tsuna echoed in shock. “What is going on?”

“Is an event about to start?” Yamamoto asked. “How fun! Where is it?”

“It must be the Carcassa Familigia,” Reborn commented as his pacifier started glowing yellow in tune with Colonello's blue pacifier. “The only one stupid enough to do this is Skull.”

“This is one of those Arcobaleno things, right?” Ietsuna demanded as the boom of cannons and associated panicked screams could be heard.

“This isn't good, hey,” Colonello commented, regarding the view over the cliffs. “The family responsible for security today is at home because it's the anniversary of their boss's death. There's not enough military force on the island right now.”

“Then it's all over!” Tsuna shrieked. “Now what?!”

“As long as I'm here, I won't let them take the island,” Colonello stated. “But... it's nap time now... zzz...”

“Leave him,” Reborn instructed as the boys stared at the snot-bubbles forming from Colonello's – and his bird's – nostrils. “I'm more worried about Mama and the others. Let's take the subway... zzz...”

“He fell asleep too...” Ietsuna's deadpan delivery understated the current situation. “Right, let's take them and go find the others.”

“But, Ie,” Tsuna gestured. “This is an island, right?”

“Well, they're attacking by ship-” Ietsuna's teeth clicked together as a helicopter dipped overhead. “Aw, no.”

“If that lands, the island's natural defences would become a wall,” Gokudera hissed. “This is bad.”

“Eh? Why?” Yamamoto asked.

“Look, baseball idiot!” Gokudera yelled. “In tactical strategy, these cliffs would provide the perfect cover for our backs in the main amusement park, under normal circumstances. The copter means that they can deploy men to shoot at our backs. It's a battle on two fronts!”

Yamamoto looked at them. “I don't understand.”

“The enemy has the bases loaded,” Ietsuna explained. “It's the ninth inning, we haven't scored, the other's got three points, and we're two outs in.”

“Oh!” Yamamoto nodded eagerly in comprehension, and then frowned. “That's... going to be hard.”

“The problem is the copter,” Ietsuna grimaced as the helicopter deployed a Gatling gun at them. “Down.”

All four boys – along with the slumbering baby hitmen carried somehow; Reborn under Yamamoto's arm, and Colonello carried by Tsuna – ducked down behind a random nearby boulder as a hail of bullets rained down on their previous position.

“This is kinda fun!” Yamamoto cheered. “Toys are so real nowadays.”

“What do we do, Tenth?” Gokudera sounded eager amidst the noise, like some hunting mastiff downwind of prey.

“Ah...” Tsuna's breath quickened. “If this copter lands... what will happen?”

“A helicopter can only hold a limited number of people,” Ietsuna calculated. “That Gatling gun is the real problem. If the fighters get sandwiched in, we lose. Everyone on the ground could get killed. But, there's not enough space for a landing, so either they deploy from mid-air, or use the copter itself to cover this point. If it's the latter... if we could get Gokudera's dynamite up there, we could take it down. Gokudera, how far up can you throw the dynamite?”

“...not far enough,” Gokudera lowered his head. “I'm sorry, Tenth! Because of my incompetence, we're stuck!”

“It's not your fault, Gokudera-kun,” Tsuna disagreed. “If Gokudera-kun can't throw it, what about Yamamoto-kun?”

“This isn't just a home-run at stake,” Ietsuna pointed out. “It's his life. That copter is simply too high up now. Even assuming that it lowers, he'll have to throw two bombs; one to hide him, the other to bring down the copter, and he'll have to throw it past the rotors. A stick of dynamite is more likely to be interrupted by the rotors before it detonates. Plus, Reborn and Colonello are out of action...”

“Yes?” Tsuna was slowly backing away under his twin's stare to Colonello's rifle. “Ie, you're thinking... I don't like what you're thinking.”

“... I should have made Lambo pack the M20.”

“You shouldn't encourage minors to carry heavy artillery in the first place,” Tsuna rebutted, calming slightly. “But that means that you have a plan.”

Ietsuna nodded. “Tsuna, you take Reborn and Colonello to the main part of the island. Find Kaa-san and the others. Gokudera, Yamamoto, you stay here. We're going to guard Tsuna's back.”

Tsuna swallowed. “I... I don't want to leave-”

“You get the babies out, or we're going to die,” Ietsuna pointed out. “Tsuna, you're the only one who can get them out. Gokudera and Yamamoto can't communicate with each other worth shit, and I can't mix explosives.”

“Yes!” Gokudera chipped in. “Tenth, you're the only one who can protect Reborn-san! Don't worry, we'll watch your back!”

Slowly, reluctantly, Tsuna nodded. “I trust all of you to come back alive.”

Then he ran, ducking under the palm trees that lined the cliffs towards the rail tunnels with a baby hitman tucked under each arm.

“Gokudera, give Yamamoto a lit dynamite,” Ietsuna stated, all business now. “Yamamoto, toss that dynamite into a parabola arc down towards the rotors. Everyone prepared to vacate to the next boulder.”

“Here,” Gokudera sourly handed over the lit stick.

“Sounds fun!” Yamamoto's smile was too strained to mean anything but the opposite as he tossed the lethal weapon, watching the copter veer off course by the mid-air explosion and the Gatling gun aim towards them. The boys ducked for another boulder.

“Three-second burst, ten-second cool-down,” Ietsuna nodded after the burst that tore at their eardrums and kicked up dust and collapsed part of the cliff, fiddling with his cellphone while lying on the ground. “Yamamoto, prepare to compensate, wind direction south-east.”

“Not enough,” Yamamoto shook his head. “Ietsuna. Prepare to kick.”

“What?” Ietsuna shook his head at the mental imagery. “I'm not Sanji1! ...Fine! Gokudera-”

“Bunch dynamite, five-second fuse.” Gokudera handed over the larger bundled sticks to Yamamoto. “Last bat.”

Ietsuna nodded as Yamamoto prepared to fling it. “Now!”

The word _Dunamis_ glittered in the dim sunlight as the sticks flew up, flung by the force of a natural-born hitman's arm towards Ietsuna. One leg outstretched, the other anchored, Ietsuna's roundhouse kick sent the weighted dynamite up. It was buffeted by the breeze coming in from the sea, turning in mid-air, and then curving down, to explode on the rotors of the helicopter. Like the birth of a star, the smoke in broad daylight detracted from what seemed to be a really large explosion of flame. The burst of gunfire gave out as the helicopter made an almighty crash against the cliffs of Mafia Land, metal creaking and people shouting.

“We did it!” Yamamoto grinned at Gokudera as they shook hands in the midst of excitement.

“We did it! We did-” Gokudera recovered himself, stopping the high-five. “Of course we did it! Don't underestimate the Vongola, baseball idiot! Ietsuna-sama, we did it!”

“Not yet,” Ietsuna was staring as giant pink tentacles erupted from the flaming wreckage, and a giant armoured octopus burst out from within. “Are giant animals a thing?”

* * *

Tsuna was panting once he ran out of the tunnel and found his mother, Bianchi, Haru and the three children planning out a fancy dinner. It was, sadly, not the weirdest sight he'd seen on Mafia Land.

“Kaa-san, they're asleep,” Tsuna set Reborn and Colonello into Bianchi's eager embrace, nearly slipping on the cobbled stone ground before the false castle. “I'm going back to find Ie now.”

“Be safe!” Nana waved as Tsuna did an about-face and ran. “Ah, they're such good kids...”

“Lambo! Stay back!” Tsuna panted, shaking out his right leg upon which Lambo was clinging to.

“Ie-nii is fighting, right?!” Lambo sniffed but clung on tightly. “Then he needs his weapons! I need to give him the weapons!”

“Oi, wait, Lambo!” Tsuna shouted as Lambo hopped off his leg and ran for the tunnel anyway. “Lambo!”

It was a while of stumbling in the dark, looking for the crybaby – who had suddenly found some courage until Tsuna found the literal end of the tunnel. It opened out a bit, where Tsuna found the sole rail car still in the middle of Colonello's training ground, and then turned left decisively. There, on the far end by the cliffs, was the smoking wreckage of a helicopter; and- were those giant octopus arms erupting from it?

“It's so hard to choose,” Tsuna found his twin and Lambo nearby, leaning against a boulder with what looked like the contents of a military arms locker, or perhaps an arms shop in America. “Lambo, you really outdid yourself.”

“Ie-nii needs them!” Lambo grinned at the praise. “Lambo-san is good at getting weapons!”

“Thanks.”

“Oi! Tsuna! Ietsuna!” Yamamoto called from the middle of pitching javelins. “The octopus's arm movements match that baby's fingers! It's awesome!”

“This isn't the time to admire him, baseball idiot!” Gokudera skidded to a stop. “Tenth!”

“Gah, Ahodera-shi,” Lambo chuckled.

“Shut up, stupid cow!” Gokudera hollered back. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I brought weapons for Ie-nii~!” Lambo stuck his tongue out.

“Ie!” Tsuna yelled. “You aren't supposed to encourage minors to become arms dealers!”

“I didn't,” Ietsuna rebutted, selecting a medium-sized mallet and a giant chisel. “You know, octopus meat is supposed to be low in fat and high in zinc and vitamin B.”

“You're going to _eat_ it?!” Tsuna screamed.

“Who said that?” Ietsuna scoffed, pointing to Lambo. “The two of you are. You're mostly skin and bones.”

“W- We're twins!” Tsuna retorted. “Anyway, is this the time to talk about _takoyaki_ 2?!”

“You're right. We should cut it first.” Then Ietsuna dashed towards it.

“What?” A helmed head stared at the boy running towards him with a mallet and chisel. “Oodako!”

“Ie!” Tsuna yelled as his twin was caught by one arm.

“The arm of an octopus is a muscular hydrostat,” Ietsuna grinned as the octopus freaked and panicked, its arm having frozen over.

“W- Who are you?” Skull screamed as Ietsuna chiselled through the point where frozen became unfrozen flesh, to drop to the ground.

“Sawada Ietsuna.”

He tackled Skull. A scream of air suddenly condensed into liquid, and an explosion of frost and fog centred upon the pair. The air became a solid fog bank, and for several seconds there was silence. A thud resounded, and the fog was blown away by a sea breeze. It left Ietsuna, walking towards them.

Ietsuna dropped a solid lump of ice onto the ground as Mafia men ran through, led by Colonello and Reborn. The other two Arcobaleno fixated onto Skull, staring at the improvised baby icicle.

“Well,” Colonello stated, no longer smirking or smiling. “At least he's quiet.”

* * *

There was a party at Mafia Castle to celebrate the victory over the Carcassa. Vongola threw the most outlandish parties, certainly, and most days took nearly any excuse to celebrate being alive while smashing the faces of their enemies into the dirt.

One solid reminder, however, stood out; Skull was still a frozen counter-piece, a horrific reminder of the Vongola's power that Ietsuna had unwittingly created. To say nothing of poor Oodako, who had fled into the waters around Mafia Land after the fate of its master.

It was sunset when Ietsuna had finally fled the castle – and from the fawning of several Mafia admirers – for the night garden when he saw the old man again.

“ _Buonosera_ , Ietsuna-kun. Did you come out for the air?”

“More or less,” Ietsuna nodded towards a stone bench. They made a strange sight, an old man and a barely-teenage boy perched on either end of the bench.

“I knew your grandfather,” the old man started.

“...Oh,” Ietsuna sighed.

“I'm not here to kill you,” Timoteo corrected. “Although that is a telling response. You do not seem very surprised.”

“When you open with a line like that, people get ideas. It was better than my first assumption that you were a paedophile, Timoteo-san,” Ietsuna commented. His eyes were watching Timoteo's eye-line, towards the bright sun that hung in an orange sky. “Are we continuing the conversation, Jii-san?”

“Perhaps,” Timoteo admitted. “Are you Lorenzo?”

Ietsuna cocked his head. “ _What_?”

“I see,” Timoteo reflected, still looking at the fiery chariot that was leaving the world to the dark, if only a while. “Lorenzo is in the undiscovered country... I was wrong.”

“Is this a thing, this... not being able to spit it out?” Ietsuna breathed in through his nose, huffing out a breath through his lips. “This... what are you trying, Timoteo-san?”

“I... am sorry,” the old man admitted quietly. “Lorenzo was my dear friend. I... I never got to say goodbye.”

“To Grandpa?” Ietsuna questioned.

“Yes,” The Ninth pondered for a bit. “We met on the streets of Paris. _C'est un rendez-vous avec la destinée._ The first thing he asked me was... 'what kind of idiot are you'?I was then personally acquainted with an Italian copy of _The Great Gatsby_ he happened to be carrying.”

The Ninth smiled, still looking at the setting sun. “We were together from Paris to Palermo, and that bloody book remained his faithful lethal weapon each time. Each time, though, every time I saw him in the mornings, like a homing pigeon, he would be facing the rising sun. He had a dream, he told me, of his island home of Japan. His family was there. Now, the Mafia did not treat those not of the blood too well. It was a difficult time, especially after the war3. I failed to enforce our protection of the immigrants into our land, and he could not accept this. Our time together was cut short by fate; he would not bring his family to a land without the assured protection from those who would harm them, and I could not help him as my mother's heir. I met him again at the wedding of his son, who by happy chance was my employee. He denied all knowledge to my face, but I knew why, and I could not blame him.”

“He was your friend, right?” Ietsuna demanded. “And he told you that he didn't know you.”

“ _Le bête noire,_ the black beast... it followed us to him,” Timoteo shook his head. “He had unborn grandchildren to protect. And he was right. He died because we brought it to him.”

“...I don't understand,” Ietsuna replied, having figured it out. “Why are you telling me this, Vongola Ninth? Is it because of my twin brother? Or that father of ours?”

“Both, and neither,” Timoteo replied. “Both, because your father and I had great reason to hide our family away from the underworld we live in. Neither, because it is an old man's reminiscences.”

“Or,” Ietsuna retorted, “you could just say that you're a lonely old man and ask for intelligent company. Oh wait, that makes you sound too much like a creepy old man.”

“You are truly Lorenzo's grandson,” Timoteo pondered. “So that was where all the flippant disrespect comes from. It must run in the family, although we share a distant blood relation.”

“Different parts of the same family.”

They laughed together.

“Do you know Monet?” Timoteo snorted, as twilight had swept in along with the large searchlights installed around Mafia Land. “His sunsets, I find, capture this scene just fine.”

In the distance in the ocean, something bobbed. Perhaps Skull, the black leather-clad drifter on the sea who just staged his escape, would find his way here or elsewhere. Were he here, he would see the old and the young laughing together at the rise and fall of life.

“Now?” Ietsuna paused. “I think, for the sunsets, Rembrandt would be better.”

Timoteo's eyes sparkled. “I have a bad habit of commissioning art thefts on your family milestones. Rembrandt's only seascape4 must be somewhere inside the castle.”

Ietsuna made a face. “You are a terrible old man. Why?”

“It was...” Timoteo murmured. “Someone magnificent told me to create an island of peace. This island, which faces the east, was what he looked towards. In a way... I wanted to see what he saw, what enchanted object he pursued so passionately.”

“Mmm,” Ietsuna hummed, eyeing the castle now. “Lead on, then. Show me.”

Timoteo smiled. “Aren't _you_ getting uppity now, young man?”

In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Skull laid on the head of Oodako, tracing his adult-sized hand where the purple pacifier hung. He peered up at the night sky, helmet-less for once. The next day, Colonello and Reborn would wonder which adult rescued him, and ponder about the adult-sized footprint on the windowsill. No one would ever have though about the implications of the Zero Point Breakthrough.

“Sawada Ietsuna,” Skull repeated the name.

[](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rembrandt_Christ_in_the_Storm_on_the_Lake_of_Galilee.jpg#/media/File:Rembrandt_Christ_in_the_Storm_on_the_Lake_of_Galilee.jpg)  
"[Rembrandt Christ in the Storm on the Lake of Galilee](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rembrandt_Christ_in_the_Storm_on_the_Lake_of_Galilee.jpg#/media/File:Rembrandt_Christ_in_the_Storm_on_the_Lake_of_Galilee.jpg)" by [Rembrandt](//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rembrandt) \- www.gardnermuseum.org : [Home](http://www.gardnermuseum.org) : [Info](http://www.gardnermuseum.org/collection/artwork/2nd_floor/dutch_room/christ_in_the_storm_on_the_sea_of_galilee) : [Pic](http://asset1.gardnermuseum.org/FILE/1838.jpg). Licensed under Public Domain via [Wikimedia Commons](//commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/).

* * *

_**All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.** _

_**1 The One Piece character, famous for his strong and intensely accurate kicks.**_

_**2 Takoyaki (** _ _**たこ焼き** _ _**or** _ _**蛸焼** _ _**?) is a ball-shaped Japanese snack made of a wheat flour-based batter and cooked in a special takoyaki pan. It is typically filled with minced or diced octopus (tako), tempura scraps (tenkasu), pickled ginger, and green onion. Takoyaki are brushed with takoyaki sauce, similar to Worcestershire sauce, and mayonnaise. The takoyaki is then sprinkled with green laver (aonori) and shavings of dried bonito (katsuobushi). There are many variations to the takoyaki recipe, for example, ponzu (soy sauce with dashi and citrus vinegar), goma-dare (sesame-and-vinegar sauce) or vinegared dashi.** _

_**3 I personally hold that Vongola Settimo (Fabio AKA the Seventh Boss) immigrated to America until he was called back, and I approximate Timoteo to be born around 1939. So, while not serving in the war itself, Timoteo is still pretty old (~65-66).** _

_**4 ** _ ** The Storm on the Sea of Galilee ** **_is a painting from 1633 by Rembrandt van Rijn. It was in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum of Boston, Massachusetts, United States, prior to being stolen in 1990. The painting depicts the miracle of Jesus calming the storm on the Sea of Galilee. It is Rembrandt's only seascape. In 2013, the FBI announced they knew who was responsible for the crime. Criminal analysis has suggested that the heist was committed by an organized crime group. There have been no conclusions made public as the investigation is ongoing. Needless to say, in real life no one has found the painting._ **


	15. Folio 14: Prestezza

“So, Skull escaped,” Timoteo reflected, standing at the highest point of Mafia Land with the world's best hitman.

“An adult-shaped footprint was discovered,” Reborn supplemented.

“I see,” Timoteo pondered. “Reborn... you must wonder, why I interrupted your sniper's eye from taking him.”

“Iemitsu said that he was a threat,” Reborn responded noncommittally.

“Is that so?” Timoteo pondered. “In the beginning, that was what I thought, too. But, I spoke to the boy. He is so much like his grandfather... the grandfather who loved his grandson so much, that he would willingly die for him.”

Timoteo coughed. “This is the man who invested only in Siena[1] since his sojourn into the underworld. I have faith in him.”

* * *

The end of March and the start of April saw, along with Nana's and Takeshi's birthday, the start of a new school year. The budding Tenth Generation save the Sawada twins would have been separated, if not for Reborn's, ahem, timely intervention. Eat-and-runs were involved, which were only just barely glossed over by the Sawada twins and Tsuna's reputation as the charm that kept Hibari away from haunting the place. After several explosions, mysteriously transforming baseball bats, and Ietsuna faced with a buffet of Poison Cooking, everyone still managed to advance into the same class together.

In a bout of the utter hilarity that seems to accompany organised crime nowadays, Rokudo Mukuro reappeared in Namimori's society, along with his unique hairstyle which definitely did not resemble a tropical fruit.

“What... happened...?” Gokudera rubbed his eyes.

“Eh...?” Ietsuna quietly echoed.

“Ha!” Yamamoto laughed. “Ietsuna is floored too!”

“It's an amazing sight,” Reborn observed the sparkly Mukuro sport his trademark smirk, while handing out leaflets for Ciel Art Supplies in the middle of Main Street alongside Lancia, Hana and most of the Kokuyo Gang. He looked like a vampire, if vampires sparkled. “I wonder what exactly happened while we were in Mafia Land...”

“Na-chan, Tsu-chan~!” Alouette descended upon them, as sudden as the destructive mesocyclone of a supercell thunderstorm in her way of tossing aside any and all – i.e. Gokudera and Reborn – in her direct path towards the twins. “I'm so glad to see you again!”

“S- Same here,” Tsuna wheezed, struggling against her vice-like hug. There was a strong whiff of jasmine that followed her descent. “Nice to meet you too... Alouette-san, erm, exactly what happened here...?”

“Hmm?”

Tsuna flailed from her arms, in the direction of the former criminals currently engaged in manual labour in her name as the proprietor of Ciel Art Supplies.

“Oh, them,” Alouette held Tsuna tighter against herself. “They're working~”

“I'm sorry!” Ken suddenly threw himself into Ietsuna's path, slamming into the glass shop-windows of the store. “I'll be good, please don't leave me with her! I'm sorry for everything I've ever done! God! Buddha!”

“Let go of the Tenth!” Gokudera was about to draw a stick of dynamite when Reborn patted his shoulder, which the baby hitman had grabbed onto when they were tossed aside by the storm of the old skylark.

“Madame Lei was a former hitwoman known as the _Mauviette_ ,” Reborn explained. “By sheer force of her presence, even the most hardened Mafioso would turn into a wimp. She inspires utter terror in the underworld. At your level, you can't even hope to win against her.”

“B- But, Reborn-san, she's crushing the Tenth!” Gokudera complained.

“You're picking a fight with Maître?” Ietsuna asked them, most of his attention focused on a set of new palette knives in the store display. “Good luck.”

“A- Alouette-san...” Tsuna flailed a bit. “Can't... breathe...”

Alouette let go. “Oh, sorry, Tsu-chan.”

Tsuna massaged his arms. “It's alright... what about you, Rokudo-san?”

“Good day, Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Mukuro smirked, although the dark effect was diluted by the painter's smock he had donned. Or had been forced to don; at least the former actually implied that some of his free will had been involved in the decision process, rather than being autocratically imposed upon one and all by the whim of the old skylark. “If you're asking, the old lark made us an offer we could not refuse. I'm simply biding my time away from the Vindice to steal your body.”

“Erm... OK...” Tsuna backed slightly.

“Tenth!” Gokudera exclaimed. “He’s clearly dangerous!”

Tsuna turned back. “I don't think so, Gokudera-kun. At least, it didn't feel that way... yet…”

“I- Is that so...?” Gokudera stuttered, hardly daring to contradict the Tenth.

“You... defended me?”

“Er, yes...” Tsuna paused, blinking at the girl who had suddenly appeared in Mukuro's place. She could have passed as a female clone of the illusionist. “I'm sorry, I didn't get your name.”

“...Chrome.” the girl closed her one visible eye, the right eye hidden under a medical eye-patch. “Chrome Dokuro. Thank you, Boss.”

Tsuna blinked as he was pecked on the cheek by the harmless-looking girl.

“T- T- TENTH!” Gokudera nearly blew several fuses – including his own and several dynamite ones – at the sight, before Reborn forced the teenage hitman down with a kick. Meanwhile, Tsuna's scarlet blush had yet to fade.

“Way to go,” Ietsuna gave him a thumbs-up.

“I- Ie!”

“Oya,” Chrome was gone, and Mukuro smirked, backing into the shadows of the shop façade. “You're very chipper, Sawada Ietsuna.”

“Everything out of your mouth can be disregarded right here,” Ietsuna declared. “You're just walking around as an illusion anyway.”

“Oh?” Mukuro mused, smirking.

“Y- You're an illusion now, Rokudo-san?” Tsuna asked curiously.

“Yes...” the red eye twinkled, though Mukuro sounded pensive as he decided not to continue pushing Ietsuna's limits. “The old lark has her uses. My jailers might keep custody of my physical body, but I am given free reign of the town through dear Chrome. It is... what it is.”

He gave a delicate shrug, parts of his physical body breaking into indigo Flame in his attempt to melt away. “The truth will come out someday. Meanwhile, I think I'll just-”

A yo-yo embedded itself into the concrete wall just past him, creating a small crater. “Mukuro-san,” Chikusa advised, as the yo-yo flew back into his palm, “this is to save you a beating.”

“And exactly who is receiving the beating, Chikusa...?” Mukuro's glare disappeared as a palette knife joined the small crater, embedding itself into the brick.

“Erm, Lancia-san,” Tsuna turned to the burly, thuggish-looking man. “What happened?”

“The Vindice… came to an understanding with Madame Lei,” Lancia murmured gravely. “Rokudo Mukuro’s physical body is still within Namimori Central Hospital under observation, and will be to be sent back to Vendicare upon his assured recovery. The rest of them, however, have been pardoned as accessories of the crime, in light of Mukuro’s service to Chrome Dokuro and the atrocities of the Estraneo Familgia.”

“Oh,” Tsuna’s lips twitched as Alouette discovered the crater and the painting knife. “Erm... back away slowly.”

“...I see,” Lancia turned to Hana. “We need to stay away from Madame Lei for a while, Signora Hana.”

“Y- Yes...” Hana blushed, staring at Lancia with starry eyes. “Where shall we go, Lancia-san~?”

Ietsuna shuddered. “Love is crazy.”

Somewhere in Namimori, Bianchi sneezed.

Slowly, Lancia was escorting a blushing Hana, away from Alouette's vicinity in preparation for the cloud to rage into another storm. And rage, it did:  Alouette's first reaction was to grab onto the dissolving Mukuro and stop him from disappearing from sheer force of will.

“Where are you going, Mukuro-kun~?” The blond old woman resembled one of Goya's witches at the moment with her claws clamped down on his head and squashing his ponytail against his skull. “You haven't finished distributing the leaflets~ by the way, who's an old lark?”

“It’s definitely you with your witchy claws, old lark,” Mukuro snapped back. His eyes widened as silence descended, with its conceptual brothers Awkward and Glances of Weirdness being tossed his way. “What?”

“N- Nothing…” Tsuna’s lips pressed together.

“Nothing at all!” Yamamoto put up fingers and thumb pressed together in an OK gesture.

“W- What the Tenth said…” Gokudera’s hastily stifled snort only heightened his suspicion. Especially since the old hag let go of his head.

“Mukuro-san… pff… I can’t take it, byon!” Ken started laughing.

No one, especially with Hibari’s annoyed attack later upon sighting his fruity rival, had the heart to tell the confused Alouette, that the larks had adopted an owl into their household.

* * *

The chaotic mess of February, March and April was quickly forgotten in favour of spring heralding the New Year with Hibari's hated blooming _sakura._ May, though, had the unanimous agreement of being the harbinger of doom when it came with a smiling Hibari. This was wrong on so many levels, even if you ignored the fact that the warming weather equated to a higher chance of Sawada Tsunayoshi's weapon-grade cross-dressing. Such as today.

“Happy birthday, Hibari-san,” came a prefect's greeting on the fifth of May.

“Happy birthday, Kyo-san,” was Kusakabe's greeting.

“Yo,” Ietsuna greeted while dodging paperweight flung in his direction. “ _Bon anniversaire, connard. **[2]**_ ”

“Hn.” Hibari was in a good enough mood not to follow up on it with the heavy-duty stapler or his precious tonfas, since he had had Tsuna’s skirt-clad arse in his direct line of vision for the past ten minutes. He was practically beaming; there was minimal easing of the furrow in his brow, and a slightly lighter glare towards Namimori's herbivore population. From a certain angle – and through a smudged lens – he could have been smiling. Perhaps. The Hibari family had a knack for those enigmatic, secretive Mona Lisa smiles.

“What are you-” Ietsuna went absolutely still, it was almost eerie. “Damn fetish-pervert! Tsuna, get the cake already!”

The cake was accompanied with a hamburger steak, decorated with a tiny Namimori Middle School flag in the middle like a children's meal. It was surprisingly adorable, but no one who saw it dared to say anything, since Hibari of all people had no need to prove in his masculinity.

It was a home-made _yuzu_ -lined[3] vanilla sponge cake, which drew mournfully longing looks from nearly all of the Disciplinary Committee grunts. Mournful longing was wiped away and replaced with happiness when Tsuna pulled out the madeleines, and then it was a free-for-all fight for the little madeleines that went well with the green tea. At least, until their Chairman snapped out of his temporary bliss, and realised that the clam-shaped buttery tea-cakes had all been eaten.

If the student body had previously equated Tsuna with the benevolent minor deity that protected Namimori from the demon named Hibari, then he was practically elevated to a Saint when the month passed with only the occasional threat of biting someone to death. Such peace was unfortunately not meant to last, as June saw Hibari going on a roaring rampage of rage due to the chaos involved in celebrating Mukuro’s birthday. Mukuro in his borrowed female body had taunted the poor skylark by slowly savouring Tsuna’s homemade chocolate cake in front of him.

* * *

One September morning, Gokudera climbed down the stairs of the Sawada household and thought he was in heaven.

“Good morning, Gokudera-kun.” Heaven, apparently, contained his cross-dressing boss and a plate of pancakes, warm from the pan with syrup and butter and jam on the side. Tsuna’s female uniform was covered by a frilly orange apron bearing a lion appliqué. Gokudera had seen that annoying girl Haru hand-stitching it on.

“Today’s breakfast is pancakes. What do you want? Syrup, butter, or… honey?”

“G- Good morning, Tenth!” Gokudera stared at the glimpse of creamy thigh.

“Oh, right,” Tsuna smiled. “Happy birthday, Gokudera-kun. I'll make a cake later, alright?”

“B- B- B-” Gokudera sniffed. “Y- Y- You didn't have to...”

“Eh?” Tsuna blinked. “But I want to, Gokudera-kun. Because we're friends.”

“T- T- TENTH!” Then Gokudera burst into – very manly – tears, and there was a sunset and waves breaking onto the beach and yes, Gokudera must have learnt how to cast illusions somehow, and he had taken inspiration from certain spandex-clad bowl-cut ninja talking about the springtime of youth.

“...Gokudera,” Ietsuna walked into the kitchen and appraised the situation. “Quit sparkling and eat your pancakes.”

Gokudera kept sparkling even as Bianchi descended for breakfast. The good mood continued when Reborn and Nana joined in. He didn't raise his voice, even when Lambo, I-Pin and Fuuta started fighting for the last pancake. The baseball idiot's signature smile was less grating. Even the yells of his teachers crying for attention to their sub-standard teaching methods washed out in the strange euphoria that surrounded Gokudera.

“Are you sick?” Shamal, the new school nurse – to everyone's horror – asked him at the end of the day. A few students – male and female alike – had fled to the nurse’s office asking about Gokudera’s mysterious happiness, and could it be contagious?

Gokudera smiled. “I feel like I can fly~”

“You’re sick,” Shamal immediately concluded. “I’m going to call Bianchi-chan.”

“Gokudera!” Yamamoto laughed as he walked into the Spartan and clean office.

“I don’t treat men,” Shamal warned.

“Shamal!” Gokudera suddenly burst out. “I’m so grateful to be alive!”

Even when reality slapped him in the face with Reborn's new torture the next day, Gokudera was suspiciously hard to rile up. It was, after all, the first day that someone celebrated the day of his birth.

Who could have known, indeed, that the tranquillity of these days would soon end.

* * *

 

“…somehow, I don't feel too proud of this festival as a resident,” Ietsuna dead-panned in the face of the crashes and explosions that littered Namimori’s town square was greeted with one October afternoon.

I-Pin sat primly on his left shoulder, and Lambo dangled from his right hand in the child-leash that had been the cow-child's June birthday present, right after the disastrous near-wedding of Reborn and Bianchi. The cow-child having raided a pet store for a pet bull, and then a repository for ladies’ undergarments to play with a bra. The child-leash had been deemed necessary, and Ietsuna had been elected as the one to hold it since he was the only one able to take the shopkeepers' complaints with a deadpan expression. It had been by lucky coincidence that the child-leash saved Lambo's life; just seconds ago, it was the thing that kept Lambo from a faceful of shrapnel.

“Whoa, that sounds like some awesome fireworks!” Yamamoto had asked Gokudera at the start of the explosion. “We don’t have festivals going on now, right?”

“Idiot!” Gokudera yelled. “The next celebration is the Shichi-Go-San[4]!”

“Then,” Yamamoto continued, “what’s that sound? You know, the one that goes-”

“ _VOOOOI_!”

“Yeah, just like that,” Yamamoto nodded. “Sounds like one of Namimori’s festivals!”

Then something crashed into their plastic table, and Ietsuna had hauled the smaller children with him and left Fuuta to the care of his twin.

“…somehow, I don't feel too proud of this festival as a resident.”

This was how they ended up with this current state of affairs.

“You know, Lambo,” Ietsuna fingered the blue leash, “this is really handy.”

“What?” Lambo squeaked. He was dangling from Ietsuna's hand with the leash. Ietsuna had kept it on hand rather than leave it around a flagpole and give Lambo a chance to bomb the pole and escape.

“As a weapon to save you, it's not bad,” Ietsuna pondered. “That sounds _awesome_. Now, Lambo, I-Pin.”

“Gēgē?” I-Pin cocked her head.

“Get Fuuta and the girls away,” Ietsuna pointed towards Kyoko and Haru, who had somehow ended up tagging along. If there was one thing that Tsuna could be known for, it would be his penchant to befriend the weirdest people in any universe.

Predictably, Lambo tried to argue. “L- Lambo-san-”

“Lambo-san is responsible for the safety of Sasagawa-san, Miura and Fuuta,” Ietsuna knelt to face a frowning Lambo. “You’re the only one, Lambo. Let’s go.”

“I- Ie-nii!” Fuuta yelped as he was unceremoniously picked up and set back to his feet by Ietsuna seconds later, beside the shaken Kyoko and Haru.

“Sasagawa-san, Miura-san, stay calm,” Ietsuna instructed. “We’ll take it from here. The kids need you now.”

“Hahi!” Haru bristled, but nodded. Despite their hostile relationship, she was at least smart enough to put aside her feelings in face of squirrelling the kids to safety. “Of course!”

“Tsuna!” Ietsuna called, jogging back through the smoke and dust and debris. “Tsuna-!” He stopped.

A silver-haired teen, who looked slightly older than the twins, was pointing a very sharp, pointy sword at his brother. Tsuna’s arm was caught by a brown-haired boy with a blue Flame on his head.

“So, who is this?” Silver-hair was saying.

“Hhh- Ahhh- GGAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” Tsuna screeched, rolling from the sword slash. The boy with the blue Flame dashed forward to block the hit, only to be thrown through a glass building façade.

“Tsuna!” Yamamoto dashed forward, a real _kodachi **[5]**_ in hand. The silver-haired teen whirled around to parry a blow.

“The way you swing, you haven’t learnt a style!” the man taunted.

“What of it?” Yamamoto glared back.

“This’ll be easy!” The man slashed down, explosives raining down towards Yamamoto. Gokudera couldn’t even take out a stick of dynamite before he was similarly defeated.

Opponents down, the sword-wielding enemy now stalked towards a shaking Tsuna. “Oi!” the man yelled at Tsuna. “Right, you! What’s your relationship with that brat?!”

“Tsuna-!” Ietsuna’s cry was almost interrupted, but then he ducked as a stick was tossed his way from behind. The stick hit the man in the face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the blonde elderly woman in the black tail-coat simpered, strolling through the wreckage to pick up her walking cane. “Tsu-chan, is that you? Is this long-haired Yankee[6] threatening you?”

“VOI!” The man snapped, pointing his sword at her. “Don’t think I’ll go soft on you, old hag!”

Grey eyes sharpened onto the sword as he waved it in a haphazard fashion. “Put that thing away before you hurt someone.”

“Oh?” the silver-haired swordsman snapped. “Who would be hurt?”

“Me.”

“T- That’s the point, hag!” the man yelled, poking her in the arm.

“… _D’accord,_ ” she inclined her head, and then lifted her stick in one hand.

“Please stop!” yelled the boy who had originally attempted to defend Tsuna. “This is not a man you can-”

“ _Je te plumerai. **[7]**_ ”

It was the most one-sided match ever seen. It was a top-class assassin versus a sixty-year old retired hitwoman. The blonde woman stood her ground, steady in _parade à droite_.

“VOOI!” Squalo yelled, charging into the attack.

“ _Dos! Queue! Pattes! Ailes! Cou! Yeux! Bec! **[8]**_ ”

He was whacked on the ribs, the hipbone, the legs, the arms, the neck, and the head. While his sword had nicked her hamstring, it only seemed to send the old woman into a fit of berserker fury, like a provoked tornado or a banked hurricane that erupted with renewed fury.

In a finishing blow that simply smacked of Hibari ruthlessness, the old woman brought her walking stick down on his head. “ _Tête!_ ”

The stick gave in, splintering so hard, that the part which hit Squalo flew and embedded itself between two large pieces of debris, dangling in the wind. The man staggered, and the sharpened point of the cane's other half was levelled at his throat. “ _Je t’ai plumé. **[9]**_ ”

The fight had been over from the start.

“Scary old hag,” Ietsuna scoffed, walking towards the thankfully unharmed Tsuna, who was trying to refuse the jewellery box that the strange boy kept trying to press into his hands. “What’s going on?”

“T- Thou hath a twin, Sawada-dono?” the boy started.

“Y- You’re…” the assassin blinked. “What are _you_ doing here, crone?! You had your fucking retirement! Really, no one's trying to fucking kill you! We even took you off the fucking register!”

“This is my retirement home,” she replied. “You're also asking the wrong question. The question should be, what shall I do to _you_ , Superbi Squalo?”

“Alouette-san...” Tsuna mumbled. “Like grandmother, like grandson...?”

“She's not even bothering to interrogate him...” Ietsuna lampshaded. “Crazy old bird.”

“S- Strong...” the strange boy swallowed as both twins focused onto him. “A- anyway! My name is Basil. Sawada-dono and... Sawada-dono, forsooth, I have been tasked by my master to deliver you a certain thing.”

Squalo dodged Alouette's attempt to stake him, ducking for the jewellery box Basil was about to offer to snatch it away. “VOI! I’ll just be taking these now, bitch!”

“The Vongola Rings!” the boy with a propensity to eleventh-century elocution shouted, staggering towards Squalo despite his own injuries. He managed only three steps before he collapsed onto the ground.

“Oh?” Alouette cooed as Squalo somersaulted away over a building. “This is strange. The Yankee is part of Vongola, right, baby?”

Reborn popped out, disguised as a plant-man. “Madame Lei. I deeply apologise for the disturbance.”

“Ah, _mon cœur_ ,” Alouette swayed slightly, one hand close to her chest. “What was that boy?”

“He is an assassin from the Varia.” Reborn assured. “You haven't had a bounty after you for a long time, Madame.”

“So their targets are... oh,” Alouette pondered. “That's... going to be hard on them.”

Ietsuna was dialling into his phone. “Namimori Square, idiots! Get an ambulance here!”

 

**_**[1]** _ ** **_Banca Monte dei Paschi di Siena S.p.A. (Italian pronunciation: [ˈbancaˈmonte dei ˈpaski di ˈsjɛːna]) (BMPS) is the oldest surviving bank in the world and Italy's third largest bank. Founded in 1472 by the magistrate of the city state of Siena, Italy, as a "mount of piety", it has been operating ever since. It's a very safe investment, presumably._ **

**_**[2]** _ ** **_Fr: Happy birthday, bastard._ **

**_**[3]** _ ** **_The yuzu (Citrus ichangensis × C. reticulata, formerly C. junos Siebold ex. Tanaka; Japanese_ ** **_ユズ_ ** **_,_ ** **_柚_ ** **_,_ ** **_柚子_ ** **_(yuzu);_ ** **_유자_ ** **_(yuja) in Korean; from Chinese_ ** **_柚子_ ** **_, yò_ ** **_uzi but in modern Chines_ ** **_e_ ** **_香橙_ ** **_(xiāngchéng)) is a citrus fruit and plant originating in East Asia. The fruit looks somewhat like a very small grap_ ** **_efruit with an uneven skin, and can be either yellow or green depending on the degree of ripeness. Yuzu fruits, which are very aromatic, typically range between 5.5 and 7.5 cm in diameter, but can be as large as a grapefruit (up to 10 cm or larger). It tastes like a lemon, but much sweeter than an orange._ **

**_**[4]** _ ** **_Shichi-Go-San (7-5-3) is a traditional Japanese festival on November 15. Five-year-old boys and seven- or three-year-old girls are taken to the local shrine to pray for their safe and healthy future. This festival started because of the belief that children of certain ages were especially prone to bad luck and hence in need of divine protection. Children are usually dressed in traditional clothing for the occasion and after visiting the shrine many people buy chitose-ame ("thousand-year candy") sold at the shrine._ **

**_**[5]** _ ** **_A kodachi is a smaller version of a real katana. In the interest of realism, Yamamoto is not allowed to handle real katana until he realises that Japanese katana are not weapons meant to be used so straightforwardly._ **

**_**[6]** _ ** **_A Yankee is Japanese slang for a delinquent. It's old slang, but Alouette is old, you know._ **

**_**[7]** _ ** **_French: I will pluck you._ **

**_**[8]** _ ** **_French: Back, tail, legs, wings, neck, eyes_ **

**_**[9]** _ ** **_French: I have plucked you_**


	16. Folio 15: Unione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Leafy365

 

“M- Master is... like... a... father... to me...” Basil's incoherent mumbles were barely heard under the beeping of the oxygen monitor.

“I just had a terrible daydream,” Ietsuna stated, standing by the hospital bed. “I thought for a moment assassins were coming to Namimori after us in a series of explosions.”

“That... wasn't a dream,” Dino responded with a smile. “That just happened ten minutes ago. What are you, a fantasista1?”

Dino received a boot to the face.

“You of all people don't have the right to say that,” Alouette loomed over the Chiavarone Decimo. “My walking stick was broken by that Yankee's head. I demand reparation.”

Dino cringed, sending pleading looks towards Tsuna. “Tsuna... q.q...”

“Erm, Alouette-san...” Tsuna sent a gentle smile of reassurance. “How about some tea? Your heart must be acting up right now. I'll handle this... disruption to Namimori's peace! And Hibari-san must be worried about you.”

“Tsu-chan is so kind~ Unlike my idiot grandson,” Alouette's mood flipped again. “Na-chan, you make sure this brat sends me a new walking stick, alright~?”

“Yes, yes,” Ietsuna waved distractedly, still firing off messages on his pager with another hand.

Dino sighed in relief once the blond elder left the ward. “Guys, how do you guys know the _Mauviette_? That whole family is a terror.”

Reborn snorted, thinking of his developing plan to get the youngest skylark to receive training from Dino. “Focus, idiot-Dino. How is Basil, Romario?”

Beside his boss, Romario nodded. “His life isn't in danger, Reborn-san. It looks like he was trained well. His wounds are shallow.”

“Putting aside the fact of his imminent criminal charges for disturbing the peace of Namimori,” Ietsuna started, “I guess he's part of the Vongola?”

“No, he's not part of the Vongola,” Dino shook his head. “But if there's one thing we're sure of, it's that he's on your side.”

“Huh?” Tsuna paused in the middle of searching his pockets. “What's going on? The enemy is a Vongola, and our ally is someone who isn't? We don't really have allies or enemies... well, if you count the Momokyokai-”

“Not like that, Tsuna,” Ietsuna cut in, still staring across at the three Mafiosi. “So, Basil here-” he pointed to the bed where Basil had been laid out and attached to an IV drip, “-tried to hand Tsuna something, something the loud Yankee wanted.”

“It's because those Rings are on the move,” Reborn explained.

“Rings?” Tsuna echoed. “He did say something about them...”

“The official name is the Half Vongola Rings,” Reborn lectured. “They were supposed to be held in a secret location for three more years. They're the Vongola's treasures.”

“They sounds... really expensive,” Tsuna frowned.

“They certainly are priceless, but that's not all,” Reborn continued. “An untold amount of blood has been spilled over those Rings in the Vongola's long history. They're rings with a dark past.”

“... then it's lucky that the long-haired guy took them, right?” Tsuna volunteered.

“Tsuna,” Ietsuna grimly replied, “no one sends valuable priceless artefacts by UPS, much less by a single courier.”

“Well, the thing is...” Dino sheepishly pulled a similar box from his pocket, “I have them right here.”

Blink.

Blink.

Stare.

“...EH? Why?!”

“These are the real ones,” Dino elaborated.

“So the Yankee took fake rings,” Ietsuna pursed his lips.

Dino's eyes flickered. “I came here because of these. A certain individual wanted me to give them to you, Tsuna.”

“T- To me?” Tsuna shuddered. “Those scary rings... why?”

“Well,” Dino shrugged, “because you're the Tenth Vongola-”

“There are two candidates,” Ietsuna spoke up. “Why Tsuna alone? Who told you to give them to him? Tsuna would become a target like this.”

“To be able to use the Dying Will Flame is a requirement to become Boss,” Reborn corrected, staring at Ietsuna. “Of the both of you, only Tsuna has that ability. And, as for who decided it... the external adviser.”

“...that idiot father!” Ietsuna's shout was followed by the slamming of a door to signal his departure. “We're going home, Tsuna. Now.”

“E- Eh?!” Tsuna started. “B- But, what about Basil-kun-”

“Dino-sempai is here with Romario-san,” Ietsuna snapped. “Besides, if that Yankee has friends, they'll need a while to authenticate the rings. We need to check on Gokudera and Yamamoto, and then go back home and call back to Italy.”

“S- Sorry, Dino-sempai!” Tsuna bowed deeply before following after his twin.

“He should have just given these directly to Tsuna,” Dino commented ruefully. “He came with me to Japan after all.”

“I see,” Reborn murmured. “So he came.”

“Wait, Ie!” Tsuna managed to catch up to his twin. “P- Please don't punch Dad-”

“Tenth!” Gokudera ran up to them, a patch of gauze on his cheek. He was closely followed by Yamamoto, whose arms were wrapped in gauze.

“I'm very sorry, Tenth!” Gokudera pleaded. “I'll defeat him the next time I see him!”

“Yo, Tsuna, Ietsuna,” Yamamoto greeted. “Too bad that guy left the area, right?”

“Right...” Tsuna shuddered. “I'm still glad that everyone is alive, and safe for now. We're so lucky Alouette-san was in the area.”

“We're going home,” Ietsuna stated bluntly. “Will we see you in school tomorrow?”

“Yup!” Yamamoto smiled with his eyes closed.

“Definitely, Tenth, Ietsuna-sama!”

“Drop the '-sama', Gokudera,” Ietsuna sighed. “Anyone who's protecting my brother can just use my name.”

“T- Thank you very much for entrusting me with the Tenth's health!!!” Gokudera's spine could have snapped with the rigid angle its master was currently putting it through.

“That's right,” Ietsuna's smile was like poisoned honey for how it stung in the next sentence: “So go home and regret your weakness. Bye.”

“Ie!” Tsuna bristled as he was led away. “What was that for? You didn't have to be like that! They're our friends!”

“Tsuna... you want to protect them, right?”

“O- Of course!” Tsuna protested. “Why were you so cruel?”

“That assassin today, he could have killed them,” Ietsuna sighed. “And he was willing to kill you, just because you were associated with his target. The both of them, they were willing to die for you right there. But, do you want that?”

“...no,” Tsuna closed his eyes as he was dragged out of the hospital. “I understand. I... I wish I could have protected them.”

Ietsuna stopped, and flicked his forehead.

“Ow!” Tsuna clutched his forehead. “What was that for?”

“The world doesn't need more cruel people,” Ietsuna replied. “In fact, it needs someone who cares for the world, and who uses that as motivation to protect. If you regret your actions now, then use that regret. You have that power, Tsuna, to regret hurting others and to resolve not to do so unless necessary.”

“You didn't have to flick me...” Tsuna sniffed as they walked towards the direction of home. “But, Ie... don't you regret?”

Ietsuna paused. Tsuna stopped, and saw it too; that lift of chin, that spark of defiance, and that utter _hatred_ that always seemed to linger when Tsuna was unhappy at the world he loved so much, because it was nasty to him again.

“It is all for you. I do what I do for you. There are no regrets involved.”

Those words, pronounced so matter-of-fact, were so cold that Tsuna found himself shivering inside. This was not the Ietsuna who teased and praised Lambo in the same sentence. This was not the Ietsuna who argued the theories of unidentified mysterious animals with Gokudera. This was not the Ietsuna who devotedly swept Grandpa's tomb and painted the stars.

This was Ietsuna, the twin that Tsuna loved and who loved him back so much that Tsuna was terrified that Ietsuna might murder all of his bullies, and yet would hardly bother to pay attention to himself – except if they destroyed his art-books. This was the same twin who saw nothing wrong in using military ordnance against delinquents, on the off-chance that they would hurt his twin brother. This was the twin that might be planning to kill Reborn, simply because the hitman was Spartan and demanding and _rude_ to Tsuna.

This was an Ietsuna who thrived in war and blood. A complete stranger in this world of grocery stores and peaceful assembly.

“A- Anyway, please don't punch Dad in the face, alright?” Tsuna pleaded. “I'm sure he had his reasons. Please, Ie? No literal hitting.”

Every single combat skill that Tsuna had ever learnt – every block and every use of an improvised weapon, every minute spent admiring Hibari-san's coolness in handling his brother – had been earned in the fear that if Tsuna didn't learn to fight back, Ietsuna would dish out vengeance for him with interest against the world itself if necessary. Tsuna wasn't sure which of them would win.

“...fine,” Ietsuna huffed. “No literal hitting.”

“Papa came home when-” Nana's smile melted off of her face when the twins came home and stared at the mud-covered yellow rubber boots. “N- Na-kun... right? Tsu-kun?”

“Yes, Kaa-san, I'm Tsuna,” Tsuna quickly intervened. “We just... we just met Dino-sempai! Yeah, that's right. Right, Ie?”

“...yes, Kaa-san~” Ietsuna plastered on a smile, and the effort was enough to make Nana give a tentative one of her own. Tsuna's started sweating. “Imagine our surprise when we met someone named BASIL in town, who told us that our DAD was his FATHER.”

Behind Nana, the shattering of glass sounded. The chatter of children stopped. Everyone was waiting for the horrific results. There was a thud, and Iemitsu came charging out crying about misunderstandings. Nana heard none of his words, having just fainted.

“N- Nana-san!” Haru exclaimed in shock.

“Sawada-san...” Kyoko stared.

Tsuna put his face into his hands. He had forgotten that Ietsuna had a sharp tongue to go along with his wits, especially when he was riled up. “I... just help me carry Kaa-san to the couch. We have guests!”

Ietsuna was glaring at Iemitsu for the whole time. Even when chewing on the croquette. He had just taken one when Lambo stole the plate.

“Lambo, don't keep it all to yourself!” I-Pin complained.

“No, these are Lambo-san's!” Lambo stuck his tongue out.

“Everyone is equal!” I-Pin scolded in broken Japanese.

“It's alright, I-Pin,” Ietsuna gave I-Pin his own croquette. “It just means that Lambo-san doesn't get painting time.”

“ _Gyupaa_! No!” Lambo dropped the croquette plate down. “Ie-nii, I'll be good!”

“It's so good you came back safely, Tsuna-san!” Haru exclaimed. “We were worried after being separated in that dangerous incident. How is Gokudera-san and Yamamoto-san?”

“They're fine,” Tsuna assured them. “Just... the fireworks.”

“Hahaha,” Iemitsu laughed. “Well, kids will be kids. I was surprised that our family grew so much while I was gone.”

“True, it doesn't even feel like they're free-loaders,” Ietsuna commented. “In fact, the children feel more like family than a no-good father.”

“Ie-nii shares the number one rank for the sharpest tongue in the history of the Mafia,” Fuuta spoke up as Iemitsu blinked.

“Just like my own dad,” Iemitsu joked. “It's almost scary. Well, since I've been gone so long, I thought I'd spend time with the family.”

“I was so surprised!” Kyoko commented. “Your father is interesting, Tsuna-kun, Ie-kun.”

“True!” Haru contribute. “We all listened to his stories while waiting, Tsuna-san, Ietsuna-san. He had many hard and thrilling jobs around the world! Haru was so moved~!”

“I took a lot of notes during my travels, so I can share them with you, Tsuna, Ie!” Iemitsu offered.

“Sorry. Today I gotta clear out the gym and Maître's place,” Ietsuna cut in, moving towards the cabinets and pulling out two sets of _jūbako_ 2.

“Sorry, Dad. Today I'm cleaning out Hibari-san's house,” Tsuna continued, moving to pack up some of the food to distribute. “Both of us are staying out.”

“Ah, my heart is broken, but it can't be helped,” Iemitsu played with his fingers. “And here I thought the two of you were trying to avoid me.”

Tsuna and Ietsuna shared the same brittle smile.

“Haru-chan...” Kyoko backed slightly. “I think they are trying to avoid Sawada-san desu~”

“You shouldn't do that!” Haru spoke up. “Tsuna-san, Ietsuna-san, your father is finally home after a long time away at work!”

“Normally, when someone comes back, the courtesy is to call ahead,” Ietsuna was the first to rebut.

“We're grateful that Dad is back, but we also have responsibilities,” Tsuna gently added. “Alouette-san needs help at her advanced age, and Hibari-san's mother is coming back soon. We can't abandon them at such short notice.”

“Tsuna, Ie... you've grown a lot,” Iemitsu appraised. “Especially Tsuna, since you have such a cute girlfriend like that.”

“I- it's not like that, Sawada-san,” Kyoko demurred. “Tsuna-kun is engaged to Hibari-san.”

“WHAT?!”

“Hahi?!” Haru and Iemitsu's shared screech was lost over Tsuna's “We're not engaged! Sasagawa-san, how could you even say that?!”

“It sure feels like that sometimes,” Ietsuna chipped in. “Maître keeps going on about when you're giving her grandchildren.”

“S- So,” Iemitsu flailed, “H- Hibari is a nice girl, right?”

“Hibari Kyoya?” Kyoko naively echoed. “He's a boy.”

Iemitsu would have fallen, but then Haru snapped out of the Tsuna-possible-engagement stupor to announce the completion of her newest creation. And Tsuna had to wear it. Now. So Tsuna went to change, and-

“Tsuna,” Iemitsu gaped at his son. “Why are you wearing a _skirt_?”

Tsuna opened his mouth to reply, but Ietsuna beat him to the punch. “Shame on you, _Dad_. You didn't even know that Tsuna is-”

A thud.

“-a cross-dresser,” Ietsuna finished, staring with amber eyes at the blond man in a wife-beater and boxers on the kitchen floor, who was currently foaming at the mouth. “Che. Wimp.”

“T- This is not funny, Ie!” Tsuna shrieked, hovering over their unconscious parents.

“Hahaha!” Lambo laughed, along with Kyoko and Haru. “Papa fainted when he saw Tsuna-nii in a dress!”

“...I give up...” Tsuna sighed. “I'll just call Hibari-san and tell him I can't make it.”

He sniffed, plodding towards the telephone outside. He stopped, picking up the telephone from its cradle and lifting it reluctantly. He sniffed. With the tears clumped in his brown eyes, even Kyoko went misty-eyed at the shadows of depression that seemed to have formed.

“It's like seeing a wife denied the opportunity to see her parents...” Haru sniffed. “Haru is touched~!”

“If it's for love, anything is permissible,” Bianchi appeared, bearing her own special bento. “However, it looks as though fate has decreed this love-”

The telephone rang, and Tsuna pressed the receive button. “Hello? Oh, Alouette-san, good afternoon.”

“...”

“Eh, you're going over to Hibari-san's place for dinner tonight?”

“...”

“Ah, right, Chikusa and Ken and Chrome... Mukuro as well... Then, there's no need for Ie to come over? Your house is so clean a dog can eat off the floor?”

“...”

“Er, right- wait, you want to invite my family over? Your daughter U3 is back from Hong Kong? You want me to come in _female clothes_?!”

“...”

“B- But, Kaa-san is unconscious right now, so we can't leave the house.”

“...”

“...yes, my dad has returned from overseas.”

“...”

“Sorry, he's also unconscious right now.”

“...”

“I can't do that, Alouette-san!”

“...”

“Wait, wait! There's no need to visit my house! Dad isn't mentally prepared! Actually, he'll have a heart attack first!”

“That sounds like an interesting conversation,” Reborn commented, having seemingly appeared out of thin air and was currently tasting a thigh of chicken.

“Knowing Maître, she's trying to adopt Tsuna legally now that the old man is back,” Ietsuna sighed.

“That's not good,” Reborn frowned. “We need Iemitsu to head this off. Bianchi, we're taking care of Mama and the children tonight.”

“Yes, Reborn.”

This could be a ticking bomb, especially if the _Qingniao_ 4 of Hong Kong followed her mother's lead. With the confrontation with the Varia looming, Tsuna's inheritance would be jeopardised if this Triad link was revealed, even if the Hibari family bore the blood of Alaude. _Especially_ since the Hibari family bore the blood of Alaude; the first CEDEF head bore no favours in the Family for having outlasted two world wars and seven of the Vongola's Bosses.

* * *

“You're late, little animal.” Hibari's eyebrow twitched at the ensemble. “That's a new outfit.”

“Uh, Haru gave it to me,” Tsuna fingered the hem of the woollen skirt that matched the long umber short-sleeved sweater Haru had crocheted, over which he'd put on a sleeveless vest and a white scarf. He bent down to undo his shoes. “I really wanted to give it back, but she said it was a late birthday present and... well, it was the best thing I could do, since it's a full outfit.”

“She did a good job,” Hibari leant slightly, head tilted with a large – for a Hibari – grin at Tsuna's thigh-high stockings. “I welcome you to the Hibari house on behalf of my grandmother. She is waiting for you.”

Ietsuna scowled, but was shoved aside as Iemitsu stepped forward with a large grin and arms outstretched.

“Sorry, Tsuna had to come here dressed like this,” Iemitsu smiled. He was wearing a buttoned shirt and trousers;'unfortunately, half the buttons seemed missing and the pants were caked in... something black. “So, who's the old lady that my son is cleaning and cooking for?”

A cane flew, which had Hibari side-stepped it on instinct, and embedded itself into Iemitsu's skull. “ _Ta_ _i_ _sez-vous, lionceau. 5_”

“Sorry for disturbing, Alouette-san,” Tsuna bowed quickly as the woman herself came out in a full set of dinner attire for men. “The cream goes well with your hairstyle.”

“Doesn't it?” Alouette petted her chignon. “U, come out.”

Hibari twitched, but ducked as a paper folding fan whipped past and nearly hit Alouette in the face. “Old carnivore, this is not my idea of fun.”

“Neither is it mine, mother carnivore,” Hibari replied tersely.

“Wao,” Ietsuna borrowed Hibari's catchphrase as the dark-haired woman walked out of the narrow corridor that separated the entrance hall from the rest of the house. “It really _is_ that kind of family. They could be clones.”

The dark-haired woman sniffed the air, before her eyes fell upon the twins and narrowed down on Tsuna. “It's that one, cub?”

“Isn't it obvious, mother carnivore?”

“Erm...” Tsuna produced the wrapped _jūbako_ with shaking hands. “We brought dinner?”

In a flash, Hibari U had Tsuna in her steel-like grasp on both his shoulders. “I'm so sorry, my idiot son and my mother must have been bullying such a cute boy like you. What's your name~?”

“S- Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Tsuna was terrified by the sudden about-face. “T- That's my father Sawada Iemitsu on the floor, and my brother Sawada Ietsuna. We're twins. You can call me Tsuna, Hibari-san's mother.”

“I am Hibari U, but you can call me U-san,” the woman assured him, patting his head happily. “My son really has nothing much to make up for his shitty personality, so I'm so happy that you can still endure his company. And Ietsuna-san, was it? The old carnivore mentions you sometimes as well. Come in, come in. Is that blond idiot on the floor with you?”

“H- He's our father,” Tsuna sounded flustered.

“I brought the personal seal, don't worry,” Ietsuna suddenly told Alouette.

“Good job!”

The skylarks shoved their guests towards the main dining room, which was where U set about opening the _jūbako_ and started chewing on a piece of hamburger patty she fished out with chopsticks. “You made this, little rabbit?”

“...yes?” Tsuna was shaking, and he had barely donned the prepared slippers yet.

“He's not a rabbit, mother carnivore,” Hibari corrected, completely glossing over the animal term like it was everyday life. “He's a cleaner fish.”

“Even better, idiot cub,” U was now looking at her son. “How are his desserts?”

“Better than you'll ever taste, mother carnivore,” was Hibari's immediate rebuttal. “Better than you'll ever make either.”

“Definitely better than your desserts, Kyoya,” U fished out a cake and bit into it, moaning a bit. “I approve. It's just...”

“Hiie!” Tsuna jumped as a hand smacked his behind. “U-san?!”

“What are you doing, mother carnivore?” Hibari snapped.

“It's too bad you're not a girl,” U commented. “You've got the hips for it. Ah, well. Get him into the family, cub.”

Behind him, Ietsuna was giggling madly. “The mother-in-law just sexually harassed you...”

“Ie! That's not funny!” Tsuna bristled, much like a disturbed rabbit. “Erm... where's the others, Alouette-san?”

“They refused to come,” Alouette sniffed, offended. “Well, I dragged them for a while, but it seems like-”

“They were bitten to death for crowding,” Hibari flatly replied.

“So mean!” Tsuna murmured.

“Anyway,” Alouette grinned as Ietsuna dragged Iemitsu in and sat their father's unconscious form at the Western-style table, where Tsuna could see his ink-covered thumb, “we have a proposal for you.”

“Rather than proposal, it looks like you've decided everything,” Tsuna stared at the inky thumb as the larks got started on dinner.

“Mmm-hmm,” Ietsuna threw down a small pile of forms in the middle of dessert. The cover prefaced with Iemitsu's signature, thumbprint and personal seal6 on a dotted line. “Today is the thirteenth of October. By tomorrow, we're eligible for adult adoption.7”

“...” Tsuna blinked. Stared. Blinked some more. “EEEHHH?! I thought it was a joke!”

“Well, we can't cook at all, so it makes sense,” Alouette smiled. “Since when have our family been known for joking?”

“HIIEE! B- But, U-san, you can't think- what about Hibari-san?”

Whatever crossed Hibari's face was enough for Ietsuna to stand protectively in front of his twin. “You are mine, little animal. This is merely a legal formality.”

“Kyoya can do what he likes,” Alouette shrugged. “The point is, this takes you out of the Vongola succession, since you would become a Hibari.”

“B- But, what about Ie?” Tsuna continued flailing. “T- This is a big thing! W- What about Hibari-san's father?”

“You don't need to worry about Kyou,” U reassured him with a dim smile. “He'll be so glad that Kyoya managed to find someone despite his shitty personality he'd approve of anyone.”

“Someone will need to hold the Vongola back,” Ietsuna told him, amber eyes dull. “It's your choice, Tsuna. I only wish for your happiness.”

“I...” Tsuna looked up at the ceiling. “C- Can I have some time? It's- there's been a lot happening lately. Tomorrow... tomorrow we have to visit Grandpa's grave. Right! I need time. Sorry.”

“...It's alright, Tsu-chan~” Alouette smiled when it was clear that neither of the younger larks were going to respond well. “It's your choice. And Kyoya's, but frankly the cub is raring to go already.”

“Don't be stupid, carnivore,” Hibari snapped. “This is merely a convenience to keep my cleaner fish.”

“I'm fairly sure Tetsu-kun and you aren't involved that way, idiot grandson,” Alouette huffed. “Tetsu-kun strikes me as more of a pompadour fish.”

“This is a trick!” Ietsuna burst out. “You're trying to get Tsuna in bed with you!”

Tsuna would have done a spit-take at the immediate 'yes' it engendered – from both mother and son. He was unfortunately occupied in trying to wake his father to have dinner. The grandmother was too busy cooing over Tsuna's clothes. And the Vongola Ring stayed in Iemitsu's pocket the whole time, even as the external advisor woke up with feelings of foreboding.

 

“I'll need to visit Shimon Town after we visit Grandpa,” Ietsuna told Tsuna at breakfast the next day before Tsuna set out first. A painting smock covered his front. “You'll be alright?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Tsuna nodded, preparing a bag. “It's too early.”

“You're still in cross-dress, huh?” Ietsuna pointed to the umber set that Haru had given him, which Tsuna was wearing.

“Yes...” Tsuna nodded. “I need the confidence. In female dress, I can't cry, because that would ruin the armour. So...”

“You just think about it on your way,” Ietsuna smiled. “Be safe.”

“I'm going out.” Tsuna walked out, into the rising sun as it was still cool around Namimori. He brought along a bouquet of flowers from a florist he passed by on his way; three Casablanca lilies, three yellow chrysanthemums, three daisies, and three lotuses. He was also given an orange daisy to put in his hair for good luck. He accepted reluctantly, because it made him look too feminine. He had still attempted to refuse the gift without being rude, which was when a man collided with him, crushing the flowers.

The man had spiky hair, buzz-cut on the sides and adorned with feathers and a raccoon tail at the nape of his neck. A tall and muscular build made him intimidating. This was not helped by his ensemble: a black military-cut jacket rested over his shoulders, matched with a white dress shirt, black pants, and a loosely knotted tie along with black boots. Scars stretched across his face, and his beady red eyes fixated upon Tsuna and the bouquet immediately.

“S- Sorry!” Tsuna squeaked.

“...be careful,” was the man's gruff reply. “Those for a funeral?”

“Erm, it's my grandfather's fifteenth death anniversary...” Tsuna shuddered.

“Che,” the man scoffed. “What for? The fogey's dead, right? Graves exist only for living trash to make empty prayers to.”

“E- Even so, Grandpa gave his life to save me and my brother,” Tsuna's eyes narrowed. “So I don't think it's an empty prayer. Good day.”

“Hmm, not bad,” Xanxus muttered to himself, eyes fixed on the feminine figure walking away from him. A hand reached out to snag the Ophelia flower that was floating away, buffeted by the breeze, and accidentally caught an orange daisy instead, falling into his hand almost like a moment of providence. “ _Mi disp_ _i_ _ace, signor_ _in_ _a. 8_”

* * *

_**Hibari U - It's that kind of family. Picture from<http://www.zerochan.net/992088#full>** _

_**1 n. Someone with too much imagination. Can apply to Dino under certain circumstances, can apply to Gokudera under all circumstances where the Vongola Tenth Boss is concerned, and all the time where Bianchi thinking about Reborn is concerned.** _

_**2 ** _ _**重箱** _ _**: Tiered boxes for holding and presenting food, traditionally made of wood and often lacquered, coming in sets designed to stack two, three, or even more layers high. Often square, jūbako may also come in different shapes. A set usually comes with a lid for the top layer.** _

_**3 I wrote the footnote in Folio 7 to link Alaude, Hibari, and Fon's creepy resemblance to each other.** _

_**My head-canon is that Alaude was born in Monaco and worked with the French Sûreté, and that was how he got involved with the Vongola. He reproduced, and his bloodline resulted in Alouette. Then, during the post-WW2 Chinese diaspora, Alouette got married to a guy named Léi (** _ _**雷** _ _**) and gave birth to Léi Fēng (** _ _**雷风** _ _**) and Léi Yǔ (** _ _**雷雨** _ _**). They moved to Hong Kong, where Fēng mysteriously disappeared – he was turned into a baby, but didn't dare go home. Then Yǔ met a guy named Hibari, they got married, and the in-law moved in, and the guy's name was Hibari. Hence, Hibari Kyoya.** _

_**雨** _ _**can be read as 'ame', that is, Rain, but I'm using the On'yomi reading of** _ _**雨** _ _**, “Ooo”, just like Fon is the On'yomi for 'kaze' or Wind.** _

_**4 The Qingniao (traditional Chinese: ** _ _**青鳥** _ _**; simplified Chinese:** _ _**靑鸟** _ _**; pinyin: qīngniǎo; literally: "Blue (or Green) Bird (or birds)") were Blue or Green Birds which appear in Chinese mythology, popular stories, poetry, and religion (the Chinese is somewhat ambiguous in regard to English color vocabulary, and the word qing may and has been translated as "blue" or "green", or even "black"). Qingniao are especially regarded as the messengers or as otherwise serving the Queen Mother of the West Xi Wangmu. In some sources, three-legged Qingniao carry her messages; in other sources, a single one-legged Qingniao fetched her food.** _

_**5 French: Shut up, (lion) cub.** _

_**6 A seal, in an East Asian context, is a general name for printing stamps and impressions thereof which are used in lieu of signatures in personal documents, office paperwork, contracts, art, or any item requiring acknowledgement or authorship. China, Japan, Taiwan, and Korea currently use a mixture of seals and hand signatures, and increasingly, electronic signatures. In Japan, passing a document without a seal is equivalent to trying to hand it in without a signature, meaning that it's not legal tender.** _

_**7 When an adult is adopted into a family in Japan through regular adoption, they are expected to inherit the adoptive family’s name in exchange for an inheritance. He is also expected to take on the adoptive family’s ancestors. Terms of the adoption are that families cannot adopt more than one adoptee if they already have children. If the prospective adoptive family is childless, they can adopt two children. The adoptee must be at least 15 years old, and must be at least a day younger than the adoptive parents. The current average adoptive age is about 20–30 years old. The adoption of one individual by another in Japan is commonly used as an alternative to same-sex marriage, which does not exist in Japan. By the elder party adopting the younger (as stipulated by the rules of adoption), the estate of either party can then be inherited or absorbed by the other without the payment of the prohibitive gift tax that would otherwise apply.** _

_**8 Italian: Sorry, miss.** _

 


	17. Folio 16: Chiaroscuro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Leafy365 AKA alamersyl (probably)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Everyone is swamped with work, so Folio 17 might be out late. Nevertheless, please continue to show your support with reviews and favs and alerts and etc… :D !! – LLS

_**  
**_

Barely twenty-four hours in Japan, and Iemitsu was at his wits' end as to how to deliver the last Ring. Well, most of the Guardians had already been decided, but Ietsuna proved to be a disturbingly good saboteur where Tsuna was concerned. If they had separate rooms it would have been easier, but Ietsuna's room was used as his atelier, meaning that the twins had never quite gotten used to sleeping apart, even at fourteen- _fifteen_ years old, it was the 14  th  now – and thus infiltrating Tsuna's room also meant infiltrating Ietsuna's room. To further confound matters, Iemitsu had no idea which bed contained which twin, much less how to tell them apart.

Opening the door, Iemitsu had to duck as he was welcomed with a palette knife which embedded itself where his head would have been. “Sorry,” the possessed twin muttered. “Force of habit.”

 _No wonder Reborn never slept here,_ Iemitsu thought. _Or if he did, it was in the eaves where Ietsuna and his pointy art supplies had not gotten to._

“Dad?” Tsuna blinked, in the middle of making his own bed. “You're joining us to visit Grandpa?”

No, Iemitsu wanted to say. No, I never want to go there again unless it's feet-first in a box. Wait, I'll be cremated... “Sure. I was just about to wake you guys up.”

It was quiet, but no less disturbing when Tsuna walked down in his cross-dressing attire again and started breakfast. Breakfast was more than awkward: a father who considered only one of the twins to be his son, and two young teenagers who could barely remember the man claiming to be their dad. It was completely silent, and so awkward that Nana had opted to sleep in after stepping foot into the kitchen.

Tsuna left early. Ietsuna walked out soon after, with Iemitsu trailing behind. Ietsuna barely said anything even as they passed the Namimori Shrine.

“You guys do this every year?” Iemitsu started the conversation.

“More or less,” Ietsuna shrugged. He wore a white shirt under a green sweater and a jacket thrown over it, along with black gloves and jeans with steel-capped boots. “Kaa-san is afraid of cemeteries. And probably of Grandpa too.”

“...yeah,” Iemitsu nodded, recalling Ietsuna Sr's reaction to the proposed shotgun wedding between Nana and himself. It had mirrored that of Nana's father, and the in-laws had more or less teamed up against him for the duration of the wedding preparations. They still haunted his worst nightmares. “Do you remember Grandpa? No, you were a baby...”

“...there was fire,” Ietsuna reflected, trying to reach vague impressions of memories. “I think.”

“So don't you think you should give this up now?”

“Give this-” Ietsuna frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean possessing your grandson,” Iemitsu stated with false confidence, despite the warning signs his instincts triggered. “I mean clinging onto Tsuna through Ie. You've had your turn at life, old man, so let go and leave the young ones to their lives.”

“Hold on,” Ietsuna looked incredulous. “You think I'm... Grandpa? Grandpa's dead! You're not just a negligent father and a liar, you're crazy!”

“Ietsuna died!” Iemitsu retorted. “I got the reports! Ietsuna was dead, and then he was alive after you died!”

“And the fact that an infant's revival must be a sure sign of possession to you indicates that you didn't _want_ me alive,” Ietsuna bitterly retorted in a hiss. “Did you even want to marry Kaa-san? Did you even want _Tsuna,_ or this family? Or is there no room for anyone else in that egoistic world of yours?”

Iemitsu's retort was fortunately interrupted by Tsuna. “ _Oi! Ie!_ ”

Ietsuna's foot drummed a rhythmic tattoo on the cement, but was visibly relieved when his brother arrived. “What took you so long, Tsuna?”

“Sorry, Ie,” Tsuna gave a gentle smile. “The flowers took a while. Did you wait long?”

“No, no,” Iemitsu laughed behind Ietsuna, keeping their previous hostility under wraps. “But, Tsuna, shouldn't you have outgrown this phase already?”

“What phase?” Tsuna answered, confused.

“This... cross-dressing phase,” Iemitsu waved to Tsuna's ensemble, this time with a red scarf. “It's cute, but it won't net you any girlfriends. Like that Kyoko-chan, or Haru-chan!”

“Sweep the graves, old man,” Ietsuna commanded, passing over the small dustpan he had carried in a plastic bag, along with a bottle of water and a rolled canvas. “And include Ieyasu-jiisan too, we just found him.”

Iemitsu stopped sweeping. “Ieyasu-jiisan?”

“He's over there,” Tsuna pointed to the far end, where the grave of Sawada Ieyasu stood. “Well, his ashes, at least.”

“E- Erm, right,” Iemitsu swallowed, slowly sweeping up his father's gravestone and all the successive graves as his sons set out flowers and lit sticks of incense. His fingers traced the Kanji of his ancestor's adopted name, the _katakana_ rendering of Giotto, and the Latin motto.

 

_Non nobis solum nati sumus ortusque nostri partem patria vindicat, partem amici._

 

He looked towards the newest grave, where his twin sons knelt side by side, heads bowed in respect, eyes closed. Almost like twin angels they were – the pure, innocent one marred by his tainted, dark counterpart.

“Please... please protect them, Grandpa,” Tsuna mumbled, before the twins rose together to examine the other graves on the left, and perform the ceremonial burning of incense with Iemitsu to pray to the Sawada ancestors.

“Erm, your Mama isn't here because she's scared of cemeteries,” Iemitsu chuckled, completely ruining the peaceful atmosphere. “Anyway, let's do a manly activity together! Fishing-”

“No.” The delivery was delivery crisply and professionally. “That's illegal. Hibari-san would bite fishers to death.”

Iemitsu froze. “T- Then... hiking?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Tsuna refused quietly but firmly. “I have to go to school.”

“I gotta deliver a painting to Simon Town,” Ietsuna pointed down. “We did have a family thing together already. We went to Hibari's place for dinner. Hibari's grandmother knew you, and hit you. Then we ate and dragged you home.”

Iemitsu struggled to keep a straight face. The Mauviette was the only remnant of the Famiglia _Generazione Ottava_ , outlasting the Ottava Daniela herself, and half of Timoteo's reign, in leading CEDEF before retiring – and finally allowing Nono to appoint someone who was not in any way connected to the First Cloud Guardian, who had founded CEDEF in the first place. It had been a very nerve-wracking decision; Coyote once commented that Timoteo had been flat-out terrified of handing over her retirement notice before she got around to do it for him. “How did you meet her, anyway?”

“Alouette-san is Hibari-san's grandmother,” Tsuna sternly replied. “She's... nice. Just... she's very...”

“She's got adoption forms ready to adopt Tsuna as Hibari's cleaner fish,” Ietsuna replied nonchalantly, easily ignoring how a random stone Iemitsu kicked suddenly manage to embed itself in a headstone that resembled more of a hunk of granite. “Or adopted wife. It's hard to tell.”

“Cleaner fish?!” Iemitsu repeated. “I don't remember signing that form!”

“You were drunk,” Ietsuna lied swiftly and without remorse. “You brought along your personal seal, and stamped it. I witnessed it, and Alouette-san has it now.”

“T- Tsuna is not becoming anyone's w- w- _wife_!” Iemitsu sputtered. “I won't allow it!”

“That's not the right word... is there a masculine analogue for 'wife' that connotes the submissive partner?” Ietsuna was taking great pleasure in trolling his father, is the glint in his amber eyes was any indication. “ _Wakashu? Onnagata?_ Oh, right, _uke_ -”

“You don't have to display your frankly alarming knowledge of homosexuality in Japanese culture anymore, Ie,” Tsuna sighed as a thud echoed before them. “He fainted.”

“If this was enough to make the great external advisor of the Vongola faint, then the Mafia has a serious problem,” Ietsuna growled. “Get up.”

Iemitsu grumbled, sitting up to face the grave. “Children are so precocious nowadays...”

“So, is there any reason why the adoption shouldn't go ahead?” Ietsuna taunted. It was an empty taunt, because Alouette Lei kept her promises, but Iemitsu didn't know that, and for all he knew, Nana could have been in on the adoption too.

It was a pivotal moment; the moment of truth for a habitual liar.

Iemitsu's eyes were no longer on his sons. Rather, they were on the newest grave in the Sawada plot, the headstone of the late Sawada Ietsuna. Tsuna was astonished to note that his father really was more than the negligent goof-ball who was rarely home.

“I... I hate being here,” Iemitsu abruptly confessed.

“Then go home,” Ietsuna snapped, without sympathy.

“You guys... you already knew that I was in the Mafia, right?” Iemitsu reflected. “I suppose this is good as well. A perfect time.”

He took a deep breath. “I was raised outside the Mafia. Father... your grandfather had wanted to emigrate, but the time wasn't right, and he wouldn't move the family until the Vongola could guarantee immigrant protection. Your grandmother worried herself into an early grave because your grandfather was too honest about his job. I was a bad student. A terrible son. I kept bringing stuff back to wreck the house. A gang of stray dogs, a gang of loan sharks, a biker gang- you get what I mean.”

“So you were a Yankee,” Ietsuna bluntly stated.

“It's not my fault!” Iemitsu defended hurriedly. “Then the asset price bubble happened1, and I found myself a job with the Vongola Construction... I worked my way up, and I met your mother, and at our wedding...”

Iemitsu chuckled mirthlessly then, like the semblance of humour was the only thing keeping him sane. “Father punched my boss in the face, and called him a manipulative, two-faced back-stabbing bastard. They knew each other, but... lost contact a while ago for whatever reason.”

“...Grandpa sounds really reckless...” Tsuna uneasily spoke.

“Nine months later... you were born,” Iemitsu closed his eyes. “I was so happy. Boss was happy, even if Father banned him from stepping foot into Namimori, but... he was waiting, you know. Boss was always waiting, for news on Lorenzo Il Magnifico. He was always waiting... and then the fire happened, you know, and Father... you know what came next. Your Grandpa died to protect you. We found out that the fire was staged.”

“What?!” Tsuna gasped.

“Someone set fire to the hospital on purpose?” Ietsuna echoed.

“I brought something home,” Iemitsu shook his head. “Anyway, reviewing the household register showed that my Boss and Father were distant cousins once removed through Giotto- I mean, Ieyasu-jiisama. There were... there were a lot of regrets. I don't come home that much now.”

“We noticed, really,” Ietsuna's expression had softened, though the amber of his eyes were still flinty. Tsuna sniffed. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“What? How? You were both too young,” Iemitsu shook his head.

“How old were _you_ when you knew that Grandpa was in the Mafia?”

“From as far as I could remember, Father told me everything. He was not a habitual liar, your grandfather. In fact, he was the opposite. Scared me half to death, even after he came home to Japan, and he became an electrician and I followed him along on his jobs. Your grandmother died of worry because he would never speak anything but the brutal facts,” Iemitsu sighed, pulling out a familiar-looking case. “And then you were born, and you were... so young. So young. Neither of you were meant to inherit anything more than your mother’s hair or my eyes. But someone set a whole hospital on fire just for the maternity ward. There were twenty-three babies who didn't make it. An old man died to keep his grandchildren safe and happy. He died for nothing, apparently. I... I didn't want to bring anything home anymore, but there's no choice.”

“Toss it into the Straits of Japan?” Ietsuna suggested.

Iemitsu laughed. It was a harsh guffaw. “Our lives aren't worth it. Tsuna... it's early, but something big is happening over there. You need to protect the Half Vongola Rings-”

“If you didn't want to bring them back... then why come back!” Tsuna snapped suddenly, the words erupting with unprecedented heat. “What about Kaa-san?! Ie?! You brought these things with you and put Kaa-san in danger! And what about the children in the house!? You should have made arrangements to get them out of Namimori first! You _idiot_!”

Iemitsu reared back, as if Flames of Wrath has blasted him. “There is no one else with the blood-”

“I don't want to hear it from you! You're a liar!” Tsuna yelled, still fuming like an erupting volcano. It was rare to see Tsuna so angry.. “We are not the last to carry the blood. Rather, we are the most convenient. You didn't even think about giving us a choice before doing this, did you? Did you think we were like Kaa-san, simply waiting for you to come back?! _You're_ alive, aren't you! Now you're dragging us into this, for your own convenience! Did you ever think about Ie? He has a future as an artist, a _life_ other than what you think is good for us, and now you're putting him in danger! You're a _shitty_ father! No, you don’t even deserve to be called a father!”

“...You have the blood too,” Ietsuna cut in at the ensuing silence of Tsuna's swear word. “Tsuna?”

“Yeah,” Tsuna aimed a glare before he marched away.

He had barely made three steps before he turned around, and snatched the case out of Iemitsu's hand. Iemitsu blinked.

“Neither of us will become Vongola’s Decimo,” Tsuna told him bluntly. “It'll put Kaa-san and Ie in danger. More than that, I don't need something that I have to lie to my family about. The fact that you kept lying to us until now only proves that you don't even trust your blood with this. So I’m going to tell Kaa-san everything when I get back, and you're going to straighten everything out with her, assuming that she doesn't just divorce your ass and disappear with us. Those assassins that your idiocy put on our tail, Ie and I will deal. But you're no longer our father. Ie, we're leaving.”

“That was kinder than you deserve,” Ietsuna spat vindictively, following quietly with his cellphone out, and leaving Iemitsu hanging his head out of frustration or shame.

“...I knew that this was going to happen,” Iemitsu sighed, turning back to consider the grave of Sawada Ieyasu. “Dammit, Father... I'm sorry. Forgive me, but the Family comes first...”

_Not for us alone are we born; our country, our friends, have a share in us..._

* * *

“...what should we do?” Tsuna mumbled in a small voice once they had left the cemetery. The cursed Ring hung around his neck like a millstone. “I... I don't know what happened last time, but... Ie, I don't want you to go after those guys like Rokudo Mukuro again. Ie, what do you think?”

“...” Ietsuna held up his cellphone. “Eggs are on sale.”

Tsuna face-palmed. “Please, Ie, take this seriously!”

“I am,” Ietsuna commented, still typing out a message. “That's why I started an online forum talking about that loud Yankee in Namimori, and I set the Disciplinary Committee members on lookout. There are others with that Yankee. So, Tsuna, you need to go to school.”

“...eh?”

“I need to deliver the painting to Kozato-san,” Ietsuna pointed. “You need to start the paperwork to get us out of school. Gokudera, Yamamoto, you, me... and, ask Reborn if there's anyone else to pull out of class. Oh, and...”

Ietsuna heaved a sigh. “This... will disrupt the order of Namimori. So, we need to leave the Discipline Committee, at least for a while. So you need to butter up Hibari as well. If you rush, you can get the bus back home and make the steak in time for lunch. Oh, and, tell Gokudera and Yamamoto as well.”

“EH?!” Tsuna exclaimed. “B- B- But that means...”

“Don't worry, Kaa-san bought the ground meat already,” Ietsuna assured. “So go ahead and get us an excuse.”

“Ie!” Tsuna reproached as a breeze blew, tossing red maple leaves to circle them.

Ietsuna reached out, managing to snatch one out of thin air. “Hmm...”

“And you're lost in your own little world again...” Tsuna muttered.

“The leaves must be sipping lifeblood to replace their green with this complementary red hue,” Ietsuna commented.

“Time sure passes,” Tsuna sighed, relenting as they reached a bus stop. “Only you never change, Ie, like this beautiful blue sky. We're... really going to have to fight here, right? Or everyone will die.”

“Yes. We'll get through this together.”

“I... I don't know what to do, but I do know... I want everyone to be alive at the end,” Tsuna turned to his twin with a smile as a bus approached. “This time, I'll protect Ie too. So... happy birthday, Ie.”

Ie hunched his back. “You too... Tsuna.”

Tsuna left on the bus.

Ietsuna scowled, but flagged down a bus headed to the opposite direction that Tsuna had left, towards the Namimori main street. “Blue, I see... what do you see under this blue sky, Tsuna?”

[Momiji by Akari](http://static.zerochan.net/Sawada.Tsunayoshi.full.1418171.jpg)

* * *

“You're thinking about whether or not to accept.”

Fingering the Mist Ring, Mukuro barely acknowledged the old woman currently sharpening the blade of a _shikomizue 2_ on the coffee table. “The state of my... _subordinates_ is assured thanks to you. There is no incentive for us to intervene, especially with filthy Mafiosi.”

“Oh? Am I not one of those filthy Mafiosi you so despise?”

“You're retired,” Mukuro grimaced. “You're also an old lady.”

“What chivalry you must practise, Mukuro-kun,” came the sarcastic reply.

“I only meant to point out that the elderly are quite discounted in the underworld, or very feared,” Mukuro pointed out. “It takes another kind of person to survive Cambodia in the 1970s.”

“Oh, you mean that old trinket from the genocide,” Alouette huffed. “You're quite a silver-tongued bastard. No wonder my grandson attacks you the first chance he gets.”

“You flatter me,” Mukuro commented, legs crossed and leaning against the main couch of watch Alouette work. “My eloquence could not possibly match that of your late husband, since he managed to marry into the family so often praised and insulted as the Mafia's bane. Well, it used to be.”

Alouette paused, holding the blade up to the light. “Hmph.”

“I did hear, though, that you wanted to adopt the young Vongola,” Mukuro continued. “Did Sawada Ietsuna bribe you into this?”

“I do what I want, _petit_. Tsu-chan makes desserts to die for.”

“But you are not afraid? Knowing what Sawada Ietsuna is?” Mukuro egged on.

“Is there something to be afraid of?” Alouette questioned tiredly. “Everyone I knew is dead, whether literally or distantly. One more dead person, so you claim, makes no difference. Leave an old woman's pastimes in peace. Or are you the one who's afraid?”

“I can recognise a change in subject, you witch,” Mukuro huffed, looking out to the window, towards the short man in Chinese costume selling steamed buns outside. “Is that your stalker?”

“He is my son,” Alouette replied, now oiling the blade. “He was turned into an Arcobaleno. Twenty years now he's watching, and he still thinks I don't know. I am waiting for him to come back.”

Mukuro gave a brief cackle, or a snort, or a cry, it was hard to tell. “But why not tell him so?”

Alouette clicked her tongue, sheathing the sword back into a cane. “They are proud, the men of the family. They don't want those left behind to worry, so they bottle it up and act as if nothing has happened. Fēng was always worried that the Triads would follow him home before he disappeared. That habit has not changed.”

The stick thudded a bit more on the flooring. “Ah, that's better, physically at least. But only the things which the heart believes are true, and Fēng does not believe that I can accept him as he is. There is nothing more to be done on my part. This is, too, the fate of being alone.”

Outside the apartment, Ietsuna approached the store. “Two _charsiew_ buns, please.”

“Er, yes,” the exchange was quickly made.

“You know, you've always been hanging around here,” Ietsuna commented, pulling out a bun from the plastic bag he was handed. “You shouldn't hang around here too long, otherwise that prefect Hibari might come over, or the old woman might come out and chase you away. Just saying.”

“ _Xiexie_ ,” was Fon's straightforward reply to the implied threat. What role to play, what role to play... “Want to protect,” he settled on broken Japanese. “Best place.”

“I guess. Just keep all fighting to a minimum,” Ietsuna commented, walking off towards the bus stop.

“...That's Mother's student, definitely,” Fon observed as his Pacifier started glowing. “I have to pick a different spot now... oh, and Reborn is stalking him. I wonder why.”

Ietsuna took the bus out of Namimori to Shimon Town, founded by some foreigner in the post-war era and growing in tandem with Namimori. He located the semi-detached bungalow of the Kozato fairly easily, ringing the doorbell. It opened easily.

“Ietsuna-san!”

“Yo, Mami,” Ietsuna high-fived the red-haired Kozato daughter. “Is Kozato-san in?”

“Dad! Ietsuna-san is here!” Mami Kozato called.

“Oh, Ietsuna-kun, hello,” Kozato Makoto greeted him as he came out of the kitchen, running a hand through his greying red hair. All of them had red hair; Mami, Enma, Makoto, and the mysterious Mrs Kozato that Ietsuna hadn't met yet despite seven years of acquaintance with the family. “You didn't need to deliver it personally, I could have sent a courier.”

“It's alright,” Ietsuna replied. “I also need to confirm some arrangements. I'll be out of school for a week on a retreat.”

“That's nice,” Makoto nodded. “Enma always looks forward to your visits, you know. It's almost sad that he's in school right now... speaking of which, don't you have school, Ietsuna-kun?”

“I took the week off,” Ietsuna nodded. “It's a beautiful autumn. I'm hoping for inspiration, and since I turned in my work ahead of time the teachers can't say anything.”

“Ne, Ietsuna-san!” Mami beamed at Ietsuna, her long red hair curling around a heart-shaped face and her bangs pinned up with a hairclip. “Did you make it? What I asked for?”

“I did,” Ietsuna fished out the A4 sheet from the roll. “Sketch of the Kozato family, landscape, 210 millimetres to 297 millimetres. I call it _5-3-10 3_.”

“Go-za- oh,” Makoto looked happy, especially with the family sketch. “You didn't have to-”

“That's five hundred Yen.” Ietsuna held out his hand.

“Stingy,” Mami pouted, but handed over the coins.

“-.-' How very business-minded of you,” Makoto commented. “Oh, speaking of which... Ietsuna-kun, I would like to commission a portrait sitting. It's my family...”

They exchanged some more pleasantries and discussion of colours, haggling, and the sun was nearly setting when Ietsuna finally bade them farewell and left.

He walked away from the Kozato house, through the lonely tree-lined path in which separated their isolated existence from the rest of Shimon Town. From a hanging cypress, the glint of a sniper rifle reflected in the gloom. A trigger pulled, and the bullet fired-

-to _ping_ off a palette knife.

Ietsuna tossed the knife, and the steel glanced off with a _thunk_ to reveal Reborn and a Leon-sniper-rifle on one of its branches. Reborn chambered another round, aiming at Ietsuna's head.

Ietsuna ducked behind a weeping willow, panting. “Reborn?! Is this a test?”

“It looks like you don't realise the importance yet,” Reborn continued in his chipper voice. “Tsuna is the only one suited to be the Tenth. You were never meant to live.”

“Hmm? I don't get you,” Ietsuna pulled another knife into his hand.

“We found out that Sawada Ietsuna died that day, according to one nurse,” Reborn stated coldly. “Rokudo Mukuro realised it too. That's why he couldn't possess you. You're simply a ghost, _Lorenzo Il Magnifico_.”

“I am not Grandpa! I am not this legend that you crazy people keep confusing me with! The only Lorenzo I know went by Ietsuna and sacrificed his life so that two new ones could bloom! You insult him every time you or Iemitsu claim that this guy could be so petty in his afterlife!” Ietsuna shouted back, throwing a knife which Reborn ducked, tucking and rolling at the same time to another cover. “You're really trying to kill me, aren't you?!”

“As long as you're here, Tsuna will never fall into the Mafia,” Reborn answered. “It is his fate. Fate, or destiny, is something that can never be denied. He has no choice.”

Ietsuna’s sharp eyes noticed that the baby hitman’s free hand had begun absently stroking the weird yellow pacifier that always hung around his neck, but he filed this observation away for later. “No! He always had a choice!” Ietsuna retorted. “I don't fucking care about Iemitsu. I don't care about you! The Mafia can burn, for all I care! Tsuna will always have a choice, and I'm going to make sure of that!”

“Iemitsu told me to make sure you don't,” Reborn commented. “I had had Leon mass-produce Dying Will Bullets, the only thing that can cause you pain. Of course, with your body definitely lacking a central nervous system, the wound is not painful, but enough bullets should definitely kill you.”

Ietsuna dashed behind the trees, ducking and weaving and tossing knives, none of which posed a real threat to the World’s Greatest Hitman.

“I have no weaknesses,” Reborn tonelessly stated, as if it were a mantra he often repeated, firing shots that threw up cracks in concrete, that burned through trees.

Ietsuna rolled and dashed, ducking into an alleyway only to spot Reborn in the distance, hovering with a copter-Leon. He threw another knife and ducked away as his mentor – no, Reborn was always his assassin, never a teacher or elder figure to him, or even someone to trust – fired another shot, cursing as his body slammed against concrete. He looked down to the manhole; the padlocked, covered manhole. “Dammit! Is there-”

A pink armoured tentacle whipped out, and Ietsuna was cut off with a strangled yell as he was dragged into the manhole and through the cover, which fizzled out. Hologram, Ietsuna mumbled as he was stuck in darkness with the tentacle. The armoured tentacle.

“He disappeared?” Reborn's voice echoed overhead. “Well, he must have climbed.”

The rotations of Leon-copter dimmed, until there was complete silence and two- no, three, no, five sets of breathing.

“Sawada Ietsuna!” the purple baby controlling the octopus holding him hostage proclaimed.

“You're... Skull, right?” Ietsuna frowned. “Is this a revenge thing?”

“No! I mean, yes!” Skull paused. “Oi! Stop interrupting me! And why are you so calm?!”

Ietsuna shrugged, despite being stuck in the tight grasp of an octopus arm. “If you saved me from Reborn, you can't be that bad. It's also a courtesy to listen if you're coming with a proposal.”

“But if your life is in danger then it's common to panic!” Skull exclaimed.

“My life doesn't matter,” Ietsuna easily answered. “But, since we're having this conversation, couldn't you tell me the names of your comrades. Mister Skull?”

“Ah, you've met Oodako, that's Fantasma, and that's Viper-”

“Mammon, you idiot,” the neutral voice spoke from the shadows, and Skull gave a hiss of fright. “Well, what's done is done. So, this is the kid whose technique forced your body back to adult form for six hours?”

“Y- yes, Viper! This kid froze me, and then I was an adult until sunrise!”

“Can we take this somewhere more comfortable?” Ietsuna asked curiously.

“Hmph, it's just a kid,” Viper, or Mammon, dismissed. “I even spent money on a plane ticket to Japan for this purpose.”

“It's not about that,” Ietsuna easily replied as Oodako's arm shattered and he kicked back, flying towards them. “It's for the both of you.”

“L- Let go of me!” Skull screeched as he was caught along with Viper.

“Skull, I'm going to throw you into so much debt-”

There was another flash, and a suck of air as the temperature dropped.

Then, two thuds and splashes.

Ietsuna considered his now-empty bag, and the two lumps of ice. “Oodako-san,” he asked the octopus with a smile like poisoned honey, “I'm going to need your help.”

The two lumps of ice-encased baby _cracked_ once Ietsuna managed to haul himself out of the manhole with Oodako's help. They shattered, and then an adult-sized boot with chains hanging off of it popped out of Skull's prison. More moans of fatigue, and a hooded form broke out from Viper's icy cage. Both were vaguely adult-sized, and, judging from the Pacifiers half-hanging off either their necks or wrists, were the two Arcobaleno.

“I'm me again!” Skull cheered. “Well, temporarily, but yes!”

Viper studied her form. “...I take it back. Fortune _does_ favour idiots.”

“Hey! Who’re you calling an idiot?” The two Arcobaleno would have bickered incessantly, if not for a hand that clapped upon each of their skulls, still frozen over.

“I don't know what's going on, but if you're planning to use me, the courtesy would be to inform me as to what's going on. Now,” Ietsuna knelt, still keeping a grip on their heads, “shall we negotiate?”

* * *

Kusakabe would never admit it, but he was trembling in his shoes when Tsuna presented the forms necessary for a leave of absence from school, and also announce that the Sawada twins were temporarily leaving the Disciplinary Committee.

“Sorry, Hibari-san,” Tsuna smiled across the desk at the thunderous-looking chairman, the miasma of rage sweeping over him like he was threatened on a daily basis by killing intent. “I knew you'd be angry. So, I brought you a hamburger steak!”

“Why are you telling me this?” Hibari demanded. Or pouted, if Kusakabe's radar was finely tuned enough to the moods of the chairman.

“Well... I admire Hibari-san,” Tsuna's sunny smile was like a balm, its effect immediately washing off some of the chairman's irritation. “But, it looks like Ie and I would be dragged into activities that would disrupt the peace of Namimori, so Ie told me to take leave. As a member of the Disciplinary Committee, my body and soul are devoted to Hibari-san, so I don't want to disparage the Committee's reputation. Please, take this meat as compensation.”

Hibari's eyes sharpened on the dark blue skirt, black tights, and the bright red bow of Namimori Middle School's female winter uniform under the black gakuran jacket that the chairman had bestowed onto Tsuna. There was a spark of... _something_ unidentifiable, because Kusakabe had never seen that expression before. It was softer than bloodlust, more stubborn than will, and much more than simple irritation on Hibari's part, like some eternal flame that was there, an enchanted light that was kept aloft in the every gesture of the skylark.

“Make sure you return with another hamburger steak, Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Hibari finally bit out. “You are mine. If you fail, I will hunt you down and bite you to death.”

Tsuna smiled, as if there was another non-verbal message under all of that posturing and being threatened – and maybe there was. He started taking off the gakuran jacket. “I... also think of Hibari-san as part of myself. I'll definitely come back.”

Kusakabe discreetly wiped away a tear at the scene before him. How is it that the chairman and the general affairs manager get that almost-married vibe between them every time they spoke for more than a minute? They could not have been more than seven years old – nine in the Chairman's case – at their first meeting.

Kusakabe had been serving the Committee for four years, and sometimes he wondered if the chairman himself knew how much he let Sawada Tsunayoshi get away with. That sort of conversation, for example. It was like an _understanding;_ the kind that comes from truly knowing a person, knowing their virtues and vices and loving them anyway, enduring and overcoming challenges together, it takes years-

“See you around, Kusakabe-san! Hiie, Hibari-san, it hurts!”

Oh, Kusakabe realised when Tsuna was wrapped in the black jacket and promptly thrown out with the threat to return the jacket intact by an eerily silent chairman. Tsuna's admiration of the chairman shone like the sun, so Kusakabe had never seen the burning torch until now.

* * *

“I shouldn't have mentioned that Yankee...” Tsuna sighed later as Gokudera and Yamamoto ran out to find tutors, having somehow received the Rings of Storm and Rain as well. Somehow, the weather motif was repeating itself, with the _extremely_ sunny Ryohei yelling about training.

“Erm, Sasagawa-sempai-”

“Call me Onii-chan, Sawada Tsuna!” Ryohei bellowed. “I've heard everything about what happened yesterday, what happens in ten days, and the Rings. You extremely need my help now, just like I needed your help with Kyoko last time!”

“Erm, do you understand-”

“I've forgotten everything except that you need me, though!”

“Σ(゜д゜;)...” Tsuna turned to Reborn. “Why him? Sasagawa-san would be sad!”

“He has a very important role in the Family,” Reborn explained, glad that Tsuna did not own a cellphone. He had an assassination to perform on Ietsuna.

“Leave it to me to the extreme!!!!!”

“He certainly is sunny...” Tsuna sidestepped an attack from behind, Colonello flying to kick the wall and missing his head. “Why is Colonello here?”

“Your dodging skill is really top-class, hey!” Colonello commented as he landed back onto his feet. “Reborn came crying to me, so...”

“I didn't cry.”

Tsuna just sighed as the two baby hitmen commenced a head-butting contest in the entrance hall of Nakayama Surgical Hospital, where he had been visiting after dropping off Hibari's bribe. “Please don't do that! Explain properly, what's going on?”

“We don't have enough time for me to train everyone,” Reborn elaborated, still in his Pao Pao disguise.

“So we're going to be exclusive home tutors, hey!” Colonello added.

“For each person with a Ring,” Reborn added.

“Home tutors...” Tsuna echoed as Colonello poked Ryohei with the muzzle of his rifle.

“Interesting!” Colonello commented to Ryohei. “If you can keep up with my training for ten days, you'll be way stronger than the others, hey! But it's gonna be tough. Do you accept, hey?”

“Obviously!” Ryohei tied on the green bandanna Colonello handed him. “I won't lose!”

“Are they going to be alright?” Tsuna stared as Ryohei ran out, trailing behind a Colonello flying with the help of his animal partner Falco.

“Colonello's taken care of thousands of students,” Reborn assured. “And Ryohei's made him excited. If things go well, he'll come back several times stronger.”

“I'm going to go tutor as well,” Dino added. “Because of the alliance's position, I can't do a thing besides train those with a Ring.”

“I... see...” Tsuna sniffed.

“Sorry, Tsuna,” Dino himself looked close to tears. “This is all I can do for now.”

“I was... counting on you...” Tsuna blinked as Dino fell down. “Eh?”

“Idiot Dino, pull yourself together!” Reborn snapped. “Why do you keep fainting when you see Tsuna in female clothing?”

“Oh, it's my fault...” Tsuna pouted. “Sorry, Dino-sempai.”

“(゜◇゜)...” Dino slapped his face. “No, it's my fault. I have a problem child to train... I should... get... immunity...”

“I should shove you in a dress, idiot Dino,” That word, shove, sounded filthy coming from an infant. “It can't be helped. Sorry, Tsuna.”

“Huh? Oi!” Tsuna yelped as Reborn grabbed the front of his skirt and flipped it up. “ _Reborn_!”

Dino fainted again. “Boss!” Romario yelped, running towards Dino. “Please pull yourself together!”

“...Tsuna, it's not sexy to wear shorts,” Reborn looked disappointed, for some reason.

“No!” Tsuna yelled back. “I need to be able to fight!”

“If you're doing something, do it with your dying will,” Reborn sternly lectured. “At least do some fan-service.”

“You're totally insensitive! Girls don't want to be sexually harassed each time they wear a skirt, you know!” Tsuna retorted. “I wear girls' clothing for confidence!”

“He's right, Reborn-san,” Romario nodded, cradling his unconscious Boss. “Boss, please wake up...”

“If you can argue with me, then that means that you're prepared to train,” Reborn retorted as Leon transformed into a gun. With his other hand, he tossed to Tsuna a set of exercise clothes that he'd asked Nana to prepare beforehand. “You get five minutes to change. We have physically intensive training to do.”

“Really, Reborn! Pervert...” Tsuna looked mutinous, and his face was ashen as he stared at the Ring, but he did as asked, walking away to find a washroom before Dino managed to stagger to his feet.

“I...” Dino put his face into his hands. “Reborn, I...”

“What?”

“I think I like Tsuna way too much,” Dino mumbled. “You know, when we first met... I really thought Tsuna was a girl. And then no, he's a boy. So why am I feeling like this? I... he's attractive as both a boy and a girl, I'm terrified-”

“Go and train Hibari, you idiot,” Reborn gave the Chiavarone Boss a kick in the head for good measure as Tsuna came back out. “Tsuna... this is your exercise wear?”

“I've... fought in girls' clothing before...” This time in exercise clothes and the skirt, and fidgeted under their heated stares. “I... can probably fight better like this, since Hibari-san made me practise with Ie under his supervision... Dino-sempai? You're drooling.”

“I... If it's you it's OK!” Dino burst into tears and ran. “I'm going to train that problem child as if I'm going to die, Tsuna! So please, always stay this cute!”

“Eh?! Dino-sempai?!” Tsuna shouted as Dino ran off with Romario. “What's with him...?”

“It's your turn,” Reborn pointed the Leon-gun.

“NOOOOO!!! REBORN!!!”

* * *

 _**1 The Japanese asset price bubble (** _ _**バブル景気** _ _**baburu keiki?, lit. "bubble economy") was an economic bubble in Japan from 1986 to 1991 in which real estate and stock market prices were greatly inflated. The bursting of the Japanese asset price bubble contributed to what many call the Lost Decade.**_

_**2 The shikomizue (** _ _**仕込み杖** _ _**?, literally "prepared cane") or 'jotō' (** _ _**杖刀** _ _**literally "staff sword") is a Japanese swordstick. It is most famous for its use by the fictional swordmaster Zatoichi. The name shikomizue is actually the name of a type of mounting; the sword blade was placed in a cane-like mounting (tsue), to conceal the fact that it was a sword. Some shikomizue also concealed metsubushi, chains, hooks, and many other things. The shikomizue could be carried in public without arousing suspicion, making them perfect tools for shinobi.** _

_**3 In Goroawase: Ko-za-to = Kozato**_


	18. Folio 17: Impasto

“K- Kusakabe-san!”

“Yes?” the Disciplinary vice-chair tentatively asked.

“T- The chairman has turned demonic!” the other Regent-style Disciplinary member, Tanaka, whimpered.

“Oh, that's because Sawada-san came in to do paperwork,” Kusakabe's calm façade was betrayed by his shaking hands. “About... his leave of absence... and... that he's out of the Disciplinary Committee for however long it takes to resolve it...”

“So two officers are out of the Disciplinary Committee?!” Tanaka lamented. “Chairman looked like he was eyeing that hamburger steak in front of him...”

“That's Sawada's peace offering,” Kusakabe sighed. “Don't worry, the chairman will get over it. I just hope one peace offering is enough, otherwise...”

“O- Otherwise...?”

“Well... we're we’ll all bitten to death,” Kusakabe admitted, eyes darting to the ceiling. “At least that foreigner looks strong enough to hold off Kyo-san off for a while...”

Up on the rooftop of Namimori Middle School, Dino barely dodged another tonfa strike. “This brat... did he level up or something?”

“That cleaner fish, leaving me out of a fight...” Hibari glared at Dino, even though it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. “...I will bite him to death...”

“He's totally in his own little world...!” Dino narrowed his eyes. “Oi, can you afford to wander-?! What are you doing?”

For Hibari had sat down on the rooftop floor, and opened a bento box. Dino's mouth watered with the heavenly aroma of braised beef and chicken and demi-glacé sauce. “Is that...? T- T- Tsuna's cooking...”

“...Hn.”

The little troll was laughing at him, Dino was sure, even as Romario handed him a pre-prepared sandwich. The bacon, lettuce and tomato combo seemed to pale in comparison to Tsuna's food. “W- Why did Tsuna give you food anyway?!”

“He is my cleaner fish,” was the simple reply.

“...err...” Dino mumbled around the sandwich, and swallowed. “So...”

“He cleans, cooks, sorts out the paperwork, and does the laundry in exchange for payment and protection,” Hibari tersely summed up the entire slate of duties. “The old carnivore and mother carnivore claims that he would make a perfect mate.”

_Mate... mate... mate..._

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!!!” Dino bit through his BLT sandwich in one mighty chomp, aura burning. “ _I'm going to beat you to a pulp!_ ”

Overhead, Reborn flew past them on a helicopter-Leon, headed towards Shimon Town to relief the lookout and perform the necessary assassination before beginning on Tsuna's training. It was rare, after all, for another assassin who used Dying Will Bullets to be in town, and Xanxus's position was already precarious. Perhaps the death of a twin to Mafia-related causes would be a huge motivation for Tsuna... it was the best thing to hope for.

Reborn, Iemitsu, Timoteo… They had all lived long enough to know that in the Mafia world, there was no room for miracles. And... it was best, if Tsuna never knew what he had done to his own twin brother, to subject his twin to such a horrific bodily resurrection, even if it was... it was...

Reborn had stubbornly ignored the raging conflict he’d glimpsed in Nono’s eyes. He's glossed over the hesitation in those old eyes, quickly covered up by his external advisor’s harsh command to destroy _Il Magnifico,_ who had taken residence within his grandson’s dead body. What if it was the Magnificent himself? What about it? Fate had cursed the Arcobaleno into this form... fate had killed Lorenzo, no, Sawada Ietsuna the Senior. His time was over, and yet he'd snatched this second chance...

Reborn had continued to fire Dying Will bullets at Sawada Ietsuna, whose only crime was protecting the brother that had given him the miracle of rebirth. That identical face that kept snarling, that shifted from calm to slightly irritated to only the back of his head, and Reborn could not differentiate them, neither the one fated to be Boss nor the one fated to die. What kind of hitman was this?

Sawada Ietsuna, though, had somehow escaped, and Reborn only had very little time to search for him. There was no doubt; rather, there was no longer any room for doubt. There could not be, for Reborn was the world's greatest hitman.

No one got second chances that easily. No one. Not even Reborn.

* * *

They had to stick to the canals, since Oodako was still an octopus who used gills to breathe, and no one wanted to take a sewer trip in the darkness. Fantasma rode on Ietsuna's shoulder, unwilling to touch any extremes on his body.

It had been scant minutes since Reborn's attempted assassination, and they were still jumpy even as they stopped by a public pavilion. Surrounded by a copse of bamboo, it was a veritable Zen garden at night, with the last crickets chirping before the winter cold would set in. A wind blew past, and the two Arcobaleno shivered slightly.

“Hello, Kaa-san?” Ietsuna spoke into his phone. “I'm not going to be able to make it back until tomorrow, the last bus was disrupted. I'm going to stay over tonight. Sure, I'll do that. Yes, see you tomorrow.”

“Why did you tell your mother that?” Mammon demanded.

“Well, this is new and strange to me, so I need to observe you guys,” Ietsuna pointed out. “Reborn is also out to kill me, so I need you for a bit. So, you guys gonna tell me about the Arcobaleno curse?”

“It'll cost you,” Viper threatened.

“Then how much will transforming you be?” Ietsuna chirped, smiling slightly when Viper growled. “Like I said, I need you. But, right now, you also need me. I'm supposing it's something to do with this _curse_. Whatever that is.”

“Y- Yes!” Skull chipped in. “The Arcobaleno is a group made up of World's Strongest "I Prescelti Sette" of an era, who each possess a Pacifier that represent the different colours of the rainbow! That man in the iron hat used this Curse of the Rainbow, and turned us from adults into babies at The Fated Day, for the purpose of harnessing the power of the Tri-Ni-Sette, which supports all life on the planet Earth!”

“You really like run-on sentences, Skull,” Ietsuna commented. “So, there's a guy in the iron hat, who made a curse that binds you guys into infants, for the purpose of protecting magical pacifiers. Only by freezing you guys can you escape it temporarily to become adults. What's Tri-Ni-Sette?”

“The Tri-Ni-Sette are three sets of seven treasures: the Vongola Rings, the Mare Rings, and the seven Arcobaleno Pacifiers,” Viper added. “The man in the iron hat said that the Tri-Ni-Sette is a device that guides the growth and development of life on Earth, while maintaining a balance of its life force. They said that each element of the Tri-Ni-Sette has its own individual and unique power over time, space, and to exist as points in space and time.”

“It's like spooky action in physics,” Ietsuna commented, pulling out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “So... seven, and seven, and seven, each over time, space, light. The rainbow is the visible spectrum according to the Sophist view, that's why Newton chose seven colours.”

“At least he's intelligent enough,” Viper told Skull.

“I haven't introduced myself,” Ietsuna rubbed his forehead. “Sorry. I'm Sawada Ietsuna, one of the twin heirs of the Vongola Family. Sorry for freezing you.”

“It's alright- Vongola?!” Skull's demur turned into a screech. “You're heir to the Vongola?!”

“Vongola?” Viper sat up. “ _Twins_?!”

“Not by choice,” Ietsuna complained. “One day Reborn showed up, tricked his way in, and basically announced that we were the heirs of the Vongola Family. Then, because the Dying Will Bullet doesn't work on me, my twin got earmarked as the heir. We didn't even want it!”

“Then, that ice... is the Zero Point Breakthrough!” Viper caught on in panic. “You were really trying to kill us?!”

“He survived,” Ietsuna pointed to Skull. “I froze him in Mafia Land as well. I realised that this ice does something against Dying Will Flames, so...”

“The Zero Point Breakthrough turns Dying Will Flames into ice,” Viper explained. “The ice created by this technique cannot be melted using ordinary means, as any energy that comes in contact with it gets turned into negative energy. It can only be melted using Dying Will Flames.”

“So, you guys broke out using Dying Will Flames?” Ietsuna asked. “But aren't you tired? And how did you turn back into an adult? It's like Dying Will Flames were involved in turning you into infants to start with...”

He looked to the shocked faces of his companions. “Yes?”

“I- I never thought about it like that...” Viper looked almost ashamed.

“Neither did I...” Skull admitted.

“You have an excuse,” Viper retorted. “You're an idiot to begin with. Go on, Sawada.”

“Ietsuna is fine, Viper-san,” Ietsuna demurred.

“Call me Mammon, then,” Viper, or Mammon, retorted. “This... curse... no, calling it a curse distracts us from this point of view. What would you call it?”

“It’s… a computer program?” Ietsuna suggested. “Like you said, the Tri-Ni-Sette is, quote, 'a device that guides the growth and development of life on Earth, while maintaining a balance of its life force'. Like a giant computer. Which element controls space and time again?”

“The Mare and Vongola Rings,” Mammon chipped in, leaning forward to study the Minkowski spacetime diagram Ietsuna was sketching.

“Then, if we define those two sets as separate clients, you Arcobaleno must be the servers running on dedicated hardware,” Ietsuna suggested. “As the World's Strongest Seven in several different fields, few could beat you individually or in a group. You can cover each other’s weaknesses. You guys are perfect as dedicated hardware. Of course, that would mean that those Pacifiers are running their own algorithms to maintain the Tri-Ni-Sette, and power in the form of Dying Will Flames are taken from the hosts; that is, you guys, who are turned into babies for some reason. In that case, freezing via the Zero Point Breakthrough stops the processing and returns the Dying Will Flames to their original owner, which creates a temporary break.”

“It's like restarting a computer, and the baby programme kicks in only after all the start-up functions have completed their course, like a virus,” Ietsuna hypothesised to complete silence. “Probably.”

“We need Verde,” Mammon immediately concluded. “If we can figure out the mechanism of the curse, we'll be one step closer to solving it.”

“Another Arcobaleno, Mammon-san?” Ietsuna asked.

“He's the smartest Arcobaleno,” Skull told him. “Verde-sempai is called Da Vinci's reincarnation! Except he doesn't draw.”

“Hmm,” Ietsuna frowned at the Minkowski spacetime diagram he'd sketched out. “I see.”

“What about Reborn-sempai?” Skull finally asked the most relevant question. “If he kills you, we'll lose our best lead. Should we-”

“No.” Ietsuna snapped. “We don't involve Reborn into this. That would endanger Tsuna.”

“My boss is head of the Varia,” Mammon offered. “If you swear loyalty to him and help him overthrow the Vongola Tenth Generation, I can intercede on your behalf.”

“What about my twin brother?” Ietsuna asked.

“Your brother is the Vongola's so-called Tenth,” Mammon pointed out. “Xanxus won't let him live.”

“Then no, thanks,” Ietsuna refused.

“You're our only lead to breaking the curse,” Mammon replied. “Unless your twin brother holds another clue to breaking your powers, we don't have any incentive to help out.”

“...fine,” Ietsuna sighed. “Nine months ago, we fought Rokudo Mukuro. During that fight, Rokudo Mukuro tried to possess me, but failed. He called me a walking corpse, sustained only by my brother since birth.”

“...Twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome[1] could be a cause of death or a contributing factor,” Mammon offered stoically.

“Y- Y- You're a walking corpse?!” Skull clutched Ietsuna's hand. “Then you're hated by the Grim Reaper like me! I have a friend!”

“If that was true,” Ietsuna continued, “then that means that Tsuna’s Flames have been supporting me all our lives. Like the Gemini in mythology. Pollux chose his brother over immortality...”

“That kind of miracle is crap,” Mammon dismissed. “Though it might be true, and would account for the extremes of Flame needed to, as you say, restart the computer, that kind of miracle doesn't exist.”

“B- But, Viper!” Skull eagerly leapt onto the pavilion table despite his current adult frame. “We're adults now! Isn't this a miracle as well?!”

“Resurrection of the dead is impossible as I understand it, and it's Mammon now,” Mammon snapped back. “Especially one born out of something like brotherly love. Your brotherly love can't save you from a bullet, or a blade, or death!”

“It's not stupid!”

“Then prove it,” Mammon retorted. “Where is this _brotherly love_?”

Ietsuna fumbled, producing the fateful gun that had been in the laundry room about nine years ago. Mammon and Skull tensed, but Ietsuna calmly put the muzzle to his temple.

“I will always choose Tsuna,” was his simple reply, before he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Tsuna had been asleep, and then he was awake. His bedclothes tangled around his legs, cold sweat clammy under his pyjamas and around the chain on his neck.

“Bad dream?” was Reborn's comment.

“S- Something like that,” Tsuna panted, listening to the palpitations of his heart. “I... I guess I had a nightmare. I thought... Ie was holding a gun to his head...”

Reborn stiffened, not that Tsuna could perceive it in the dimness of the room. “Why?”

“Why? He... does that sometimes,” Tsuna uneasily recounted. “I always tell him, you'll shoot yourself one day, and he always replies that... that I'll save him from it. He's crazy and reckless and... he always cares for me so much, that I'm terrified for him, because he nearly goes overboard. I don't want to contemplate what he'd do without me.”

Reborn recalled the little recounts of bullies and their slightly abnormal comeuppance, and watched Tsuna wipe tears away from glowing gold eyes. He was already prepared to settle back down, about to toss an absent threat-

Glowing eyes.

Reborn's head turned so fast as to almost give him whiplash, but Tsuna was already dropping back to sleep.

 _Tomorrow_ , Reborn promised himself, prepared for an uneasy night of listening, and waiting for Ietsuna's retaliation. _Tomorrow_ , figure out what the hell is up with the twins. If Rokudo's idea had merit, then Tsuna had defied fate to- then what had the Arcobaleno curse been, if not the fate that Luce foretold? There was no point; if fate was so easy to defy, then Luce had- had betrayed-

It did not bear thinking about, Reborn decided as the sun rose, weak light streaming in after a fairly sleepless night. He was the world's greatest hitman. He would do this right.

* * *

“The young Vongola is extremely fetching in a skirt,” Mukuro reflected in the light of the blood moon overhead, fondling his _trishula_. “Much like Mohini. I would not mind getting to know him better.[2]”

Alouette's expression was morphing into an _are-you-serious_ look. Behind them, the mansion rented by the Varia burnt, its occupants having deemed it untenable within the territory of the Hibari family.

“Oi!” Ken complained, carrying an old man piggyback. “Why am I carrying him? I did most of the work!”

“Shut up, Ken,” Mukuro mused, his eyes never leaving the old man. “I would have trembled in fear at the depths that his ambitions would go, but he was thwarted by you, you vengeful witch.”

“Be quiet, Mukuro-kun,” Alouette shot back. “You're clearly bored if you have time to look through my library, so tomorrow you will be serving on the reception counter. And no, you cannot refuse.”

“I hate you, and your grandson who lives far away from you, hag.”

“Our family needs space,” Alouette corrected. “My daughter occupies Hong Kong to get that space. My grandson controls all of Namimori for that space. But I... I held Sardinia as my space at the height of my power. Clearly, age has caught up to me.”

“Old, and still a fearsome monster you are,” Mukuro noted, eyeing the Vongola Ninth that Ken was carrying. “I would possess the old man, but he is not to my tastes, and his reign might be even shortened like this. It is also not in my interests currently to bite the hand that feeds me.”

“Good conclusion,” Alouette retorted. “Now, tell your guard dog to get him to hospital. It's in no one's interest that Timoteo dies.”

* * *

 

“Kozato-san, sorry for dropping in so suddenly, but the last bus was held up. Oh, these are my friends, Skull and Mammon. Could we stay here tonight? We won't be a bother- good evening, Mrs Kozato. Yo, Enma.”

Enma Kozato promptly blushed. “I- Ietsuna-san! P- Please, come in!”

Ietsuna's smile was still Tsuna's smile, since they were identical twins. And since that time Ietsuna had stormed in by accident and saved all their lives, perhaps the Shimon heir had a small hero-worship thing going on. It was perfectly natural. Really.

Ietsuna steadfastly ignored any indications to the contrary, especially when he was led to an en-suite spare bedroom by the red-haired Mrs Kozato and Enma.

After a few deferments for dinner, and comments about the transport system nowadays, they proceeded to leave him, alone with the unusually taciturn Skull and Mammon. Predictably, Skull broke the silence first. He did it, by walking to the attached bathroom, turning the shower on, and then bursting into tears, shattering the tension with his blubbering.

“...your point,” Mammon stated over the rushing water and the bawling, her hand reaching out from under her cape to showed her clenched fist.

“…Has been noted.” The fingers unfolded, showing the bloody bullet in her palm. The blood was Ietsuna’s from having blown his skull open.

“T- They...” Skull sniffed. “Mammon...”

“Yeah,” the Esper answered. “Your twin brother performed a miracle as a newborn by resurrecting you. He did so not out of greed, or power, or cold, irrefutable logic, but out of love for his twin. That protection endures like this… I- I can’t believe it. I can’t even make money off of it. That such a monster exists... your twin brother must be the only thing that could ever hold you back.”

“Yes,” Ietsuna answered without hesitation. “I shot myself by accident when I was six, with that same gun just now. My idiot father hid it in the laundry room where anyone could get at it.”

“If you knew that, why did you run from Reborn?” was Mammon’s next question. “You’re effectively unkillable.”

“Reborn was using Dying Will Bullets,” was Ietsuna’s reply. “A lot of them. They hurt.”

“I see.”

“W- What?” Skull had taken off his helmet, wiping his tears.

“The Dying Will Flames are probably the only way he can get sensory input, Skull. Verde would have more information, but for now...” Mammon’s frame shook. “It is enough to be acknowledged as a miracle. I...”

“...” Ietsuna turned away as Skull’s bawling lessened, eyeing Mammon's shaking hand. “Do you want to shower first, Mammon-san?”

The bullet dropped. Mammon charged in, Fantasma trailing after her, and the door slammed shut. Immediately, there was a sound of rushing water, to cover any activities there might have been performed within. Sighing, Ietsuna stooped to pick it up.

“I think she's crying,” Skull told him.

“How do you know?”

“I feel like crying too,” was the cryptic reply. “Did you _really_ have to shoot yourself?”

“She asked me to prove it,” Ietsuna answered. “I knew that I would survive. It was ample proof.”

“I- you- doesn't it hurt?!” Skull asked.

“Not at all.” Ietsuna shook his head. “Rokudo Mukuro said that my central nervous system failed. I have no idea how I am still alive.”

“You... grew up like this?” Skull was riveted. “If your brother knew this... I think he'd be sad for you. Do you... hate your brother? For giving you this half-life...”

“I am fortunate to even have a chance at growing up,” Ietsuna stated with utmost conviction. “In that sense alone, I can never hate Tsuna, because he gave me this chance.”

“But this is a terrible life!” Skull retorted.

“I can see, think, listen, speak, write, draw, paint, and express myself,” Ietsuna reasoned. “It is not a complete life, but it is better than the alternative. I cannot miss what I never had, and I can appreciate that Tsuna went against fate for me. Every day of my life is a gift, and proof that miracles do happen.”

The water-sound stopped, and Mammon exited it. “You can use it now,” her voice sounded hoarse. “I'll... keep watch. With Skull.”

“If you say so…” Ietsuna looked doubtful, but walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

As soon as the shower started again, Mammon rounded on to Skull. The two of them exchanged long stares, and then looked to the closed door.

“He doesn’t even look like having a bullet in the brain affects him,” Mammon shook her head. “He’s even more unkillable than you, Skull.”

“Noted,” the Arcobaleno replied. “But, Mammon, Reborn-sempai… wouldn’t Reborn-sempai hold back? I mean, this is our big chance!”

“If Reborn is trying to kill him, that means the Ninth or someone high-up in the Vongola ordered it,” Mammon reflected. “Twins… they must be trying to present a consolidated front for the Varia. S- Since the walking corpse’s twin is keeping him alive, the twin probably doesn’t know anything.”

“Well, we gotta find Verde first, right?” Skull’s hands clenched. “I… want to stay as an adult some more, Mammon. I feel bad for the kid too. He can’t feel anything.”

“I once made a study on Dying Will Flames with Verde,” Mammon elaborated. “Why different Flames had different colours. We used the seven colours we knew to study them. The Dying Will Flames of the Sky, the orange Flames, hold the property of harmonisation. In this case... I don't know. I don't know what we're missing here, but...”

“…can’t miss what you don’t have,” Skull pondered. “Is he… like us?”

“…I can’t tell,” Mammon replied. “Skull, you need to leave town and find Verde. I need to stay with the Varia in town… because I’m paid to.”

The shower stopped, and there was a brief clanging. Ietsuna walked out, steam trailing behind him as he dried his hair, wearing his clothes again.

A brief knock sounded. “Erm… Ietsuna-san?” Enma’s muffled voice drifted in. “I found some spare clothes… if you would…”

“Thanks, Enma,” Ietsuna opened the door to accept them gratefully from the redhead. “Sorry for troubling you.”

“N- Not at all! Ietsuna-san isn’t around often, and this is the least we could do,” Enma smiled, and it was surrounded by sparkles somehow. “D- Dad said that you came to deliver a painting when I was… at school… I’ll take your clothes to wash and dry, s- so, please change!”

“…Enma, I need to change first.” Ietsuna's delivery was kind, if slightly awkward. “I need to close the door now.”

“Sorry!” the Kozato son fled, allowing Ietsuna to close the door.

“You're lucky, Ietsuna…” Skull muttered.

“About what?” Ietsuna sighed. “I wish the boy would grow a spine already. Anyway, did you guys talk? We need a plan.”

A plan of action was decided upon: Skull would leave to locate Verde and tell him about the circumstances. Mammon would go back to the Varia and wait. Ietsuna was to return to Namimori and wait for Verde's agents to find him, keeping tabs with Mammon. All of them exchanged cellphone numbers.

“We can’t team up with Xanxus,” Mammon analysed. “He’s too obsessed with the Vongola throne, he’ll kill you first. So, we need to keep this under wraps. Do you have a way to get your non-combatants out of Namimori?”

“...you could help me set the house on fire,” Ietsuna flippantly suggested. “But Bianchi is there… with Reborn…”

“The main priority is to secure you from-” Mammon stopped as a phone vibrated. “Please excuse me.”

She walked to the window, separated from the other two men by the pile of futons, and pulled out her phone. “Yes. What? It’s my day off. You aren’t paying- She followed Squalo? The Mauviette? You mean, the former CEDEF head, the Cloud Guardian Ottava? _That_ Mauviette? Right… I’m still on surveillance. I’ll come back first chance I get.”

She hung up. “Change of plans. The Varia appeared to have run afoul of Alouette Lei and her posse. She stormed the Varia safe house with Hong Kong’s lone sentinel, to have revenge on Squalo allegedly breaking her walking stick with his head. The Gola Mosca prototype was trashed in the struggle, and thus a different approach is needed. I have been commanded to regroup with the Varia tomorrow.”

“That sounds like her,” Ietsuna nodded.

“You know of her?” Mammon demanded.

“Erm… she’s my teacher.”

A long pause of awkward echoed.

“We can’t do anything right now,” Mammon decided.

“…right.” Ietsuna nodded. “So we’ll make nice, and I’ll introduce the Kozato family to you guys before we turn in.”

Mammon’s hands were still shaking, though Skull patted one before taking his own futon aside for a discrete check, and then the two Arcobaleno would sally out and put their best nice face on with civilians who really were too nice to give them a temporary place to sleep.

Then it would be followed by an uneasy night, especially like this one; witnessing the brown-haired boy sleeping by the door get up after putting a bullet into his own brain would be a shocker for anyone. Skull would wake up shaking, to find Mammon by the window.

“Morning!” Skull grinned.

“…morning,” Mammon turned away. With the dawn, there was a harsh squawk of birds around, possibly from the trees about the property.

“ _’Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day’_ ,” Mammon quoted. “ _’It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear.’_ ”

“… _’Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree,’_ ” Skull finished quietly after her. “ _’Believe me love, it was the nightingale.’ **[3]** _ It's... it's a lark, Mammon.”

“...yes, Skull,” Mammon agreed. “It's a lark. It's a terrible way to wake up.”

The Cloud and Mist watched the sun rise, the blue of night given and cleaved by orange arrows, and with it, their bodies changed back into babies. Skull put on his helmet immediately after, and Mammon covered her face with her hood. Neither was weak enough to admit it; the sentiment of wishing that, for a transitory enchanted moment, it would last.

“It's more than six hours,” Skull spoke at last. “Do you think... that... sunlight...”

Mammon smiled. “Perhaps. Perhaps we can...”

* * *

“Thank you for bringing Lambo back, Irie-san,” Tsuna smiled and then closed the door, allowing the dazed Irie Shoichi to walk back mumbling about angels. “Lambo, please don’t wander off!”

“But I want to find Ie-nii!” Lambo protested loudly, waving a ring about. “I- I want to stay with you guys! Forever!”

“Ie will be back soon, and until then you need to protect yourself, I-Pin and Fuuta too!” Tsuna scolded. “Do you want me to tell Ie that you willingly endangered yourself? Ie would ignore you!”

“Gyupaa! To… le… rate… I can’t!”

Tsuna sighed as pink smoke billowed. “Adult Lambo.”

“Tsuna-nii!” Adult Lambo brightened. “Happy belated birthday. Is Master here?”

“Thanks. Ie isn’t here though,” Tsuna cautioned, watching the future Lambo wilt. “Why… do you call him Master?”

“He taught me about electricity and magnetism,” Lambo stoutly replied, a dreamy look on his face. “I… I wanted to protect people, but Ie-nii… Master was the only one who tried to teach me how. He didn’t just accept my feelings… he gave me the weapons to make it come true.”

Tsuna gave a hollow chuckle. Ietsuna was still the type of person to give weapons to children, in the belief of it being educational. The lessons in electricity had probably derived many valuable, painful lessons for Lambo. But Lambo sounded so grateful for it... maybe, Tsuna hoped, Ie mellowed out in the future. Maybe the teaching was for schoolwork... maybe Ie was an artist doing his own thing. Tsuna could live with that, because it meant that his twin was alive and happy.

Adult Lambo’s eyes sharpened. “Tsuna-nii… Ie-nii is _always_ your brother, right? No matter what?”

“Of course,” Tsuna nodded. “I… If I don’t accept the Ring, Ie will, and I don’t want to ruin his promise.”

“I… I can’t tell you anything about the future,” Adult Lambo said. “But… the present me, the troublesome child, wants to protect Master too.”

Pink smoke enveloped them, and Lambo waltzed around. “Ah! Tsuna-nii, is there something funny?”

“Yes,” Tsuna replied. “Yes, there is.”

“What?” Lambo asked.

“There’s a broccoli monster dancing around.”

“Eh? Tsuna-nii!” Lambo pouted, unwilling to fight with Tsuna ever since Ietsuna made the 'ignore Lambo if Tsuna was irritated' punishment a reality three times. Lambo had very quickly elected to irritate Gokudera alone. “Lambo-san is not broccoli monster!”

I-Pin walked in, calling him just that, and there was more chaos until Ietsuna got back. Lambo caught Ie-nii glaring at Reborn a few times, but chose not to comment. Then Ie-nii demonstrated the bending-water trick with static electricity, and Lambo was dangling ring magnets into some semblance of play before the twins left for 'training'.

* * *

Over the past few months, Reborn had anticipated that Ietsuna would be scuppering his plans everywhere. Ietsuna's influence extending to Tsuna’s first-class dodging skill, though, was a rare move. The afternoon after the assassination attempt and Ietsuna’s return saw Reborn in despair at the training ground.

“You haven’t figured it out yet, Reborn?” Ietsuna mocked as Basil fruitlessly unleashed a flurry of jabs that Tsuna danced away from. The boy with the blue Flame blushed, but kept a professional demeanour. “Maybe you shouldn’t assassinate me yet, right?”

“Assassinate- what?” Tsuna tried to turn, but in Dying Will Mode was still fixated on Basil. The fight had been abandoned in light of this revelation. “Ie?”

“Oh yes. To motivate you, Reborn planned to kill me and frame the other guy,” Ietsuna grinned. “It’s actually pretty well-thought out.”

“…” Tsuna made a gesture, sweeping Basil off his feet with nary a care. Gold and amber eyes were now fixated on Reborn, one in righteous anger, the other in vindictive glee; identical faces were united in fury and curiosity against him. The twin that could freeze him, and the twin who could roast him, were definitely pissed off.

“Reborn?” Tsuna's burning eyes made the word sound furious. “Explain.”

“It's a motivation,” Reborn plainly replied. “Ietsuna and I make a game of it-”

“You're lying.”

Damn Hyper Intuition.

True, it was an unspoken game, but the hot water trick had come very close to doing permanent injury. Sun Flames were tricky against burns. Ietsuna's increasing sabotage was also putting Tsuna's respect of him in jeopardy: first Dino's ruined introduction (although that was the Discipline Committee, and things worked out), then Rokudo Mukuro (the Bovino seriously let Lambo have _that_ much artillery) and finally Mafia Land (freezing one of the Arcobaleno just to demonstrate that fact) was making Reborn aware that his target was making his _student_ doubt him. Tsuna's frown was a serious indicator of the situation.

Leon transformed into the Reverse One Ton Mallet. Tsuna tensed, and Reborn managed to dash over and hit him. Basil gaped as the Dying Will Bullet clinked, and Tsuna fell down, unconscious.

Ietsuna yelled, punching the baby hitman even though he was ten metres away. Reborn ducked and rolled, Leon transforming into a gun as black flames surrounded Ietsuna.

* * *

**_**[1]** _ ** **_As a result of sharing a single placenta, the blood supplies of monochorionic twin foetuses can become connected, so that they share blood circulation. The connecting blood vessels within the placenta allow blood to pass from one twin to the other.  This state of transfusion causes the donor twin to have decreased blood volume, retarding the donor's development and growth, and also decreased urinary output, leading to a lower than normal level of amniotic fluid. The blood volume of the recipient twin is increased, which can strain the foetus’s heart and eventually lead to heart failure, and also higher than normal urinary output, which can lead to excess amniotic fluid._ **

**_**[2]** _ ** **_The trishula is the weapon of the Hindu god Shiva, coincidentally the shape of a trident._ **

**_Mohini (Devnagari:मोहिनी, Mohinī) is the only female avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu. She is portrayed as a femme fatale, an enchantress, who maddens lovers, sometimes leading them to their doom._ **

**_One Hindu myth also has Shiva falling madly in lust with Mohini, and they have a child together._ **

**_**[3]** _ ** **_Romeo and Juliet: Act 3, scene 5._ **


	19. Folio 18: Sprezzatura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Leafy365 AKA alamerysl (probably)

“This is troublesome.” Mammon had just returned, heading for the Varia's new safe house at the edge of Namimori only to be greeted by bare murmurs. “How bad is it?”

“Voi,” Squalo snarled at a surprisingly normal volume, several stick-shaped bruises across his face and whole chunks of silver seemingly hacked out of his hair. “Make a guess.”

“Shitty baby,” was Xanxus' opening greeting. He was holding an ice-pack to his ribs, so the insult fell a bit flat. “Where were you?”

“Shimon Town, with the local Simon Famiglia.” The best lie was always one mixed with the truth: Viper wasn’t lying, but she made no mention of Ietsuna’s presence. “Business. Don't worry, Boss, the plan didn't get leaked.”

“That plan's scrapped,” Xanxus snapped back, hands almost glowing before he relaxed, cradling a thick book in his hand. “The old bird got the old man by accident, since she fucking trounced Belphegor and the Mosca. We'll be discovered at any moment, depending on how long it takes that old bird to pick up a phone to Coyote.”

“Ushishishi, the prince does not like being plucked,” Belphegor giggled with the air of someone in so much pain that it was funny to the sufferer. Since he was also bearing bandages and his leather jacket was off, and his were prominently stained with blood, Mammon judged that Alouette Lei had used his blades against him.

“ _Dio mio_ , the old monster was so _sexy_ in her tuxedo!” Lussuria squealed. “She even complimented my hair!”

Mammon stared at the hacked remnant of green Mohawk. “...It's an improvement.”

“But what do we do now?” Levi was, surprisingly, the first to ask. “We've lost the Ninth.”

“We've still got a few options,” Xanxus spoke out, and the Varia upper echelon fell into contemplating silence. “The old bird is retired. She's probably lacking contacts. The old man's condition means that he's got to get medical help, and this is a small area. We just raid whatever hospital they went to, and get the old man back. Kill anyone and everything in our way. Even the old bird.”

Lussuria cooed, Belphegor grinned, Squalo snorted, and Levi nodded with an affirmative.

Mammon just hummed. “That's Fon's mother. He'll probably flip out. Fighting him is not in my contract.”

Complete silence fell as the Varia contemplated that.

“...The old bird _reproduced_?!” Squalo echoed in disbelief. “One of the Arcobaleno is her _son_ , and the martial fighter at that?! I guess abandoning the base was a good call...”

“Oi, the prince wants to fight the old bird again,” Belphegor declared. “My royal blood is spilled by a peasant who threatened to pluck me like some common fowl!”

“We'll need some discretion, shitty prince,” Xanxus' growl invited a beat of silence. “The Varia doesn't need bloody vendetta from one of the Arcobaleno, even if we have another on our side.”

“Fon is probably equal to Reborn and Colonello in strength if properly motivated,” Mammon mused. “Nothing in my contract talks about fighting another Arcobaleno. No sane hitman would provoke a storm like that without protection.”

“Che,” Xanxus scoffed. “It can't be helped. Levi, get the Lightning Squad to investigate the hospitals around and find the Ninth.”

“Yes, Boss!”

“Mammon, do a Thoughtography and locate the Sky Ring,” Xanxus snarled. “We'll go with the original plan.”

 _Shit_. “The kill them all one? Right now?”

“A few days after,” Xanxus amended, rubbing the feathers by his neck. Some of them were straggled and sliced. “That old bird is probably watching out for us still. Maybe we can use Squalo to distract her.”

“VOOII!”Squalo pointed his sword. “I am not bird bait, shitty boss!”

“Damn shark, you've got to be the bait,” Xanxus snapped back. “We've got no choice after this, losing the old man like this. Forget the other heir, all of the Vongola would be after us.”

“Calm down, you two,” Lussuria dissuaded. “We still have time.”

“You pulled the old bird to us, idiot Squalo,” Belphegor sniggered. “Ushishishi, the prince is happy with this plan. After all, only Boss should get the throne.”

“Mammon,” Levi rumbled. “Did you get any information on the other heir?”

“That's right, shitty baby,” Xanxus rumbled, eyes fixated on Mammon. “Tell us. The Famiglia you were doing business with must have good gossip.”

 _Dammit, dammit..._ _we have to use th_ _e_ _plan_ _._ _Xanxus is_ _truly_ _no ordinary man..._ “There are twin heirs.”

“What?” Belphegor's smile faded.

“ _TWO_?!” Squalo yelled. “VRROOOII! That makes our job twice as troublesome!”

“Two heirs,” Xanxus repeated flatly. “That happy-go-lucky idiot must have hidden the other just in case. Anything else?”

“One is a student of the Mauviette,” Mammon reported.

“...then we have to prepare a battlefield for the both of them,” Xanxus resolved. “Find them already.”

“Yes, boss!”

“Hmm,” Mammon unfurled a roll of toilet paper from under her cloak and prepared to consider the ramifications of leading the Varia way, way off-course.

She thought for a very long while, and then thought of the simpler method suggested by Ietsuna.

“It's moving out?!” Xanxus was already well on his way to setting the place on fire at Mammon's false news.

“That means that it's being worn,” Mammon elaborated, “and it's walking around...”

“I know that! Now we gotta go after it!”

* * *

The black flame was like smoke, Reborn reflected. Smoke that shrouded the wielder in inky darkness, and only serene amber to be glimpsed within the darkness. Like some dark mirror of Tsuna, Ietsuna simply regarded them with a blank expression and a furrowed brow, the dark flames surrounding his head and hands almost sparking in the daylight, like a corona and gauntlets of the night sky.

“Reborn-dono!” Basil started, having just snapped out of his stupor. “W- What is he?”

“Sawada Ietsuna,” Reborn shuddered. “Under these circumstances, you managed to create a new element-”

“Shall we begin?”

Basil's head turned with a crack as a muffled _fwip_ echoed. “W- When did he move-”

Ietsuna's hands closed around Basil's shoulders. “Test.”

“What-”

Darkness erupted, and then Basil was falling, eyes wide and screaming, the words were torn from his lips by the acceleration of gravity.

“No!” Reborn's shot passed as the darkness erupted, and then Tsuna's form was smothered in the same black smoke, disappearing with the dissipating vapour.

Leon shifted into a mattress, catching Basil before the CEDEF operative kissed the ground in a splatter. “A new Flame element...” Reborn mused. “Capable of teleportation? No, more like acceleration... are you recovered, Basil?”

“Yes...” Basil coughed and choked. “R- Reborn-dono... before he dropped me... he said... 'you'll do fine as a test'. What... does that mean?”

“In order to move safely, Ietsuna must have needed someone of roughly the same height and weight as Tsuna,” Reborn guessed. “You were probably a stepping stone to see if he could move while moving his brother safely.”

“I'm sorry for holding you back-”

“Get up,” Reborn ordered, waddling as Leon shifted into a remote with a screen showing two dots. “We need to go after them now.”

“Y- Yes!” Basil straightened, wincing. “But we don't know where-”

“No, we do know one thing,” Reborn's eyes were shaded. “One thing I should have realised. Ietsuna would never put Tsuna's safety at risk. We need to find which hospital he'd have brought Tsuna to.”

“Erm, Nakayama Surgical Hospital is the closest-”

“Distance means nothing to him now,” Reborn scolded. “We're going to Namimori Central Hospital.”

Further down Death Mountain, Gokudera flung a stick of dynamite and looked back. “Hmm?”

“Oi, don’t slack off!” Propped on a nearby overhang, Shamal scolded. “I finally agreed to teach you after all!”

“S- Shut up!” Gokudera snorted. “I just felt... the Tenth might be in danger...”

“Oi, did you forget the reason why I agreed to train you?” Shamal scolded.

“I... I asked you to help me see the next year,” Gokudera admitted. “It's selfish... but I want the Tenth's home-made birthday cake next year as well.”

“Dammit, if only the young Vongola was a girl... and now he's alone with Reborn the womaniser...” Shamal paused, and then slammed his head on the overhang. “Get- these- thoughts- out!!! Women are the best!”

“Geh, Shamal, don't get blood on the paper! You'll throw off the aerodynamic shape!”

A _fwip_ of black smoke signalled Ietsuna's silent arrival and departure, only to reappear several metres forward in the same moment, still carrying Tsuna over his shoulder. “What the hell is that Shamal doing... I seriously want to move faster, but I don't even know if I have the energy to do that per jump without Tsuna losing parts, and I don't want to teleport into a tree...”

Leaves rustled as he passed another tree branch, just blinking from one point to the next. “So this is Hyper Intuition... if I use this alone, I can only teleport as far as I can see. But, this Flame... it only appears when Tsuna is asleep or unconscious...”

A final _fwip_ left the twins close to civilisation, Ietsuna's rubber-soled shoes skidding onto asphalt with a violent skid, but the way he handled the body in his arms was only infinitely gentle. “One jump... please...”

 _Fwip_. A trail of black smoke erupted.

Outside of Namimori Central Hospital, Alouette Lei got the shock of her life as the Sawada twins dropped out of thin air. “ _Merde_!”

“Tsuna,” Ietsuna spat out. “Got knocked out... Reborn.”

Alouette took in the black smoke, the earnestness of one Sawada twin, and the closed eyes of the other. “I'll take care of him. You get them away.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“ _De rien_ ,1” Alouette stated. “I picked up a Vongola Boss last night on a... house visit. _Pour_ _la pendaison de crémaillère_ _, tu sais? 2_”

“R- Reborn... tried to kill me.” Ietsuna rasped, setting Tsuna down. “What party?”

Alouette did not reply as she took one of Tsuna's arms over her shoulders. “... _c'est imprévu_. 3”

“ _S'il_ _vous_ _plaît, aidez-lui_ ,4” Ietsuna rasped.

“ _Mais oui_ _, mon_ _élève_ ,” Alouette smirked. “ _Hein, vas-y_.” 5

Ietsuna disappeared in a _fwip_ and a puff of smoke.

“ _Très_ _intéressant, cette flamme noire_...” Alouette reflected as she carried Tsuna into the A &E department. “... _Mais_ _ça_ _sera très tragique._ ”6

Reborn was right; Ietsuna had been headed to Namimori Central Hospital. What he had missed, however, was that Ietsuna would come after them after dropping Tsuna off. Basil put up a fair fight, but the CEDEF boy had never fought a being like Ietsuna, and the unconscious agent left on the concrete ground was proof of it.

“Why?” was the quiet rasp that greeted Reborn within the silence of broad daylight, over the roofs of Namimori. A passing autumn breeze brought the coming winter's chill to them.

Reborn pointed his gun. “Why did I aim to kill you?”

“No. You always aimed to kill me. Why now.”

“You don't need to know.” Reborn's finger tightened. “Why shouldn't I shoot you now?”

“Indeed,” was the agreement. “It seems, that you no longer have anything left to lose by shooting me.”

“Aren't you afraid of death?” Reborn asked.

“I am afraid,” said Ietsuna, “of leaving Tsuna alone.”

“What are you?” Reborn tried another tack.

“I am Sawada Ietsuna. Sawada Tsunayoshi is my twin. We are what we are.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“But that is what I can answer,” Ietsuna's rhetoric brought a grimace to Reborn's cherubic expression. They were twins, and by that fact alone each other's best ally and worst enemy. And Ietsuna had this ability... Reborn found it new and terrifying, and he did not like it. It looked like Ietsuna would have no compunctions about leaving the Vongola to burn, if it meant that Tsuna would no longer have to take the mantle of Tenth. Ietsuna was the Vongola's worst threat; families had been torn apart for less, and the Vongola had a lot to lose if one of Primo's descendants got out of control. This _boy_ , barely into puberty, was already challenging their fates, and Reborn hated that foolhardy courage was hated as much as Tsuna's kindness was admired.

“So... you are the enemy,” was Reborn's conclusion. Though, Reborn had to give him props for trying to do right by his brother, even to being willing to blow all of Reborn's plans to shelter Tsuna and integrate the twins into the Mafia world out of the water.

“If you're out to use Tsuna for your own selfishness... then yes.”

“So naïve...” Reborn assumed an ingratiating glance. There was only so many possibilities Ietsuna could do with that skill of his, and Reborn could survive the potential drop if he had Leon. “And if we are?”

The black smoke enveloped him, and Leon fired off. The shot went wide, launched into the wide blue sky before black smoke enveloped Reborn's arm and Leon with it. Reborn was barely able to pull his hand out before the portal snapped closed, and bisected Leon's tail off, the green wriggly thing possibly somewhere with Ietsuna. Another few microseconds, and Reborn didn't care to think about what would have happened, especially if he lost a few fingers.

“ _Salvami_ ,” Reborn mused as gravity tugged at him, falling at an acceleration comparable to the speed of gravity, with no hope of reaching terminal velocity from up on high. Leon couldn't shift. It was really a situation that merited calling for help that wasn't coming.

Ietsuna clicked his tongue as the baby hitman plummeted down Death Mountain, pocketing a glass vial that contained a wriggling green tail. “To answer: I won't even bother fighting you.”

A _fwip_ resounded, as he winked out of existence in a puff of black. Across Namimori, rubber-soled Savate shoes gave a squeak as they landed on the floor. Ietsuna exhaled slowly, watching the black flame dissipate. “Tsuna...”

Back at Death Mountain, a flare of yellow Flame surged, and a small black-coated form struggled from the impact zone. Even the strongest hitman, Reborn groaned, had a problem falling two hundred metres without a parachute, and a baby's body was not ideal to land anywhere, really. It was only lucky that his reduced mas made the impact much less than it otherwise would have been. His legs, though, were definitely broken.

“ _Che cazzo, Dio cane!_ ” Reborn swore in Italian. Reborn knew at least 23 languages, and was fluent in 15 of them, and could talk to animals and insects. He used them all, and more, as part of his cloud of colourful language. It could have been translated, but then it would have to be censored, and it was rapidly joined by more bad language that would have been a linguist's worst nightmare.

Leon shifted into a phone, allowing Reborn to dial a specific number once the torrent of curses was finished. “My cover got blown. You're on your own now, Sawada Iemitsu.”

[http://static.zerochan.net/Sawada.Tsunayoshi.full.953898.jpg](http://i2.pixiv.net/img24/img/rin0422/24447708_p24.jpg)

* * *

“Is he alright?” Ietsuna asked once he located the ward. “Tsuna!”

“Ie...” Tsuna greeted, stuck in a hospital cot under Alouette's stare. “What happened? Did you get into a fight with Reborn? Are you alright?”

“Congratulations,” was Alouette's simple reply.

“We fought,” Ietsuna simply replied. “I threw our tutor down two hundred metres. He probably survive, but if he didn't, it's no big deal. I'm standing right here, to answer your last question.”

“Why did you do _that_?!”

“He wanted to kill me and then frame the Varia to emotionally manipulate you into becoming a Mafia boss. I deemed it the best course of action to severely injure him.”

“That's... not quite what I was getting at, but... what would happen now?” Tsuna fretted, clutching the ring hanging on his neck. “Would they come after you?”

“I have my own ways,” Ietsuna dissuaded him. “But, Tsuna... I think our dad is trying to get me killed.”

“Eh? EHH?! Why?”

“Because he thinks I'm Grandpa returned from the dead to haunt him.”

“I...” Tsuna's face scrunched up in consideration. “That's stupid. Even if you were Grandpa, that's good, right? You've always been with us... what do we do now? I don't want Ie to die... actually, I don't want anyone to die for this. If... If Dad and Reborn wanted to kill you for this thing... this Ring... then what was I fighting for?!”

“Tsuna...” Ie clicked his tongue, eyes downcast. “I don't know, really. Umm... Maître...”

“Hmm... identical twins present a unique succession crisis,” Alouette noted in the tension that mounted. “Being identical, the risk of one killing and unknowingly replacing the other has been a real possibility. Furthermore, when the order of birth is not fully established, the legitimacy of the Boss can be questioned, especially since it's a commonly accepted thought that twins were born out of a wife's adultery in the Old World. For that sake, in Mafia families, one twin is designated the heir, and the other usually disappears or becomes a body double. But, does it have anything to do with that black Flame?”

“Black Flame?” Tsuna echoed.

“I...” Ietsuna nodded. “I can create black Flames, not the orange you use, Tsuna.”

“I see... is that the cause?” Tsuna turned to Alouette.

“It could be an omen for the Vongola,” Alouette nodded. “There are many traditions and superstitions surrounding the Vongola. We could probably ask Timoteo.”

“Timoteo?” Ietsuna blinked.

“The Ninth,” Alouette shrugged slightly. “He was kidnapped by the Varia and brought to Japan in a robot. I... retrieved him after attending a house-warming party...”

“That sounds like you just raided the place, Alouette-san...” Tsuna muttered.

“...and he's in the next ward.” Alouette simpered.

“W- Wait!” Tsuna yelped as he was carried bridal-style by his twin. “Ie!”

“We need answers, and we need the old man to get Reborn off our backs,” Ietsuna growled as he followed the old woman next door, to the private ward where the old man looked up from his book.

“Ah, Madame Lei,” Timoteo fidgeted in his cot. “Ietsuna-kun... I recall.”

“You were at Mafia Land,” Ietsuna growled as he put Tsuna into a chair and then stormed over towards the Ninth Boss of the Vongola. “Why is Reborn after me? Is it because of that black flame?”

“Perhaps you have mistaken something during our long years away from each other, Timoteo,” Alouette smiled, and within that smile was something that caused the old man to slide back away from her. “I will pluck you to death, if you don't tell us what is going on. Now.”

“ _C- Calmez-vous, Madame!_ ”7

“Alouette-san...!!!” Tsuna sniffed. “I wanna learn that...”

“It's only accessible by evil mothers-in-law, Tsuna.” Ietsuna replied without missing a beat. “Jii-san.”

“Er, where to begin...” Timoteo cleared his throat discreetly. “The Varia is run by my son, Xanxus. Though we are regretfully not linked by blood, he possesses the Flame of Wrath and tremendous combat skill. Unfortunately, the laws of succession did not permit him to become the Famiglia's Boss. And then, when the two of you were six years old, I visited this place for the first time since Lorenzo died. And on that day...”

Timoteo paused, trying to recollect himself. “...on that day, Tsunayoshi-kun managed to produce such a large Flame. I admit, I feared for his future. I tried to seal it, but before that, Ietsuna-kun, you ran in with a gun.”

* * *

“ _Papa, what is this?”_

“ _Ietsuna, I- A- Ah-”_

“ _I found this! It makes bang noises and scares chihuahuas away!”_

 _How could he leave a gun in the house! Where_ children _could get at it! “Iemitsu...!”_

“ _Yes. Na-kun, put the gun down.”_

“ _What happened to Tsu-kun? What is that grandpa doing?”_

“ _We're... we're... carrying him!”_

“ _Then why is Grandpa's finger on fire?” the boy's eyes narrowed. The trigger clicked tighter._

_Neither man wanted to use violence on a child, but it was obvious that options were running low at the moment._

“ _I'm sorry, bambino,” Timoteo put on his best persuasive smile. “Your twin fell asleep. We need to put him on a nap. Would you like a nap as well?”_

“ _You're out to kill Tsuna, aren't you?”_

_What kind of conclusion was that- no. No child could have come to that conclusion-_

“ _I won't let you. I won't let Papa or Maman.”_

“ _Na-kun! Put it down! This is dangerous! What are you saying?”_

“ _No! You'll kill us! That flame will burn, like that fire-!”_

_To Timoteo's horror, his own Dying Will Flame extinguished itself, and cold began to form over the life-giving flame_

“ _...no? Nonno?”_

“ _Tsuna!”_

“ _I hate...” those amber eyes were so much like Lorenzo's last words to him, cutting and cruel because the Vongola would not guarantee the safety of those like him, strangers who had tried to move across oceans to settle here. “I hate... for him, I hate all of you!”_

_Black fire consumed the gun, causing it to explode and for the kitchen's smoke alarm to ring out loud and clear as the black blaze reigned..._

_...and then there were people yelling in Italian, Timoteo recalled. About reappearing in Palermo despite being in Japan just moments before._

* * *

“Lorenzo... no, your grandfather, was the best and wisest man I ever knew,” Timoteo recalled in the dim silence. “He was also the worst enemy if roused, because he gave no quarter. There were few things that could rouse him to such an extent, though. If it came to his blood family... well, history showed exactly what he thought. The Vongola... it's a risky proposition, being a foreigner in... our thing8. My mother, and Madame Lei, christened him as The Magnificentfor helping me despite himself. He was Magnificent, because he didn't want power, but safety for his family, and it was exactly what he wanted.I would have scoured Italyif I knew he wanted to move here, but I didn't know. When I saw you, I believed, he was so bitter and angry that his will must have reached from beyond the grave.”

“I am not my grandfather!” Ietsuna yelled back.

“I know,” Timoteo nodded. “Iemitsu holds a different view. And... to many, having two heirs was inconvenient. Identical twins was... well, the risk of one brother killing another for the title has always been present, and more than one twin had unseated and masqueraded as the other. Our Young Lion must have been scared stiff.

“But let us continue the story. After that incident, we paid a lot more attention to the arson – yes, the hospital was deliberately set on fire. We found out from one of the nurses' accounts that Sawada Ietsuna, the newborn, should have died that day. Yet there he was, alive and happy.”

“B- But Ie is right here!” Tsuna broke out. “Ie isn't- Ie can't be dead!”

“Sawada Ietsuna died that day,” Timoteo agreed. “It was then that I learnt your names. Sawada Tsunayoshi, and Sawada Ietsuna. By the time I met you, Ietsuna-kun, for the first time, it was too late.

“But what of it, I told myself. So what if the grandson was the grandfather reborn, or something like that. I should have recognised the danger signs then. Why I was, while not pleased at this development, not exactly raring to murder you, as I never could have Lorenzo killed. He is skilled, but skill can be subverted in many ways. He is tough, but all that is mortal must die one day.

“No, I cared too much. I cared more for your happiness, than your knowing the truth; more for your peace of mind, than that of the Famiglia; more for your lives, than the potential conflicts over the succession of the Rings. What did I care about a vengeful spirit that must have possessed a newborn baby, when I saw a pair of twin brothers playing in a garden? Numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures being slaughtered in the vague future, against the here and now over some petty conflict and the ways of our ancestors... against Lorenzo being alive, and well, and happy? Iemitsu did not share the sentiment; he did not believe that love for the family could overrule Lorenzo's hatred of the Vongola, and Iemitsu... your father chose the Vongola over his family.”

“I fell prey to weakness,” Timoteo ruefully admitted. “I wished that Frederico had lived, but Lorenzo apparently wanted me to feel the pain of losing his son to our world three times over. The day the bones of Frederico were interred, I knew it would end. But please believe me, Ietsuna-kun, Tsunayoshi-kun... I have rescinded my order. I do not want your blood on my hands, on my orders.”

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

“...and the Mafia Boss thing?” Tsuna timidly volunteered. “N- Neither of us wanted to become Boss... and neither of us are, frankly, suited for it. And... well, I don't think we can trust our tutor now.”

“I knew you'd get into that,” Timoteo admitted. “The rings could only be passed on to another member of the bloodline. Xanxus... as talented as he is, my son cannot inherit the Rings, and thus the position of Boss. Iemitsu... I think, somewhere during our investigations when we found out Primo's bloodline living in the Sawada line, he entertained some vague belief of uniting the families once more.”

“He got shot down.” Ietsuna wryly commented.

“Lorenzo disagreed so forcefully, there might still be scars,” Timoteo quietly agreed. “The wedding tuxedo tore apart in the struggle, and Iemitsu chose to wear that construction worker attire to his wedding-”

The twins exchanged looks.

“-so the plan to unite the families was scrapped,” Timoteo concluded the otherwise lacklustre story of family unity and probably what amounted to an old man's grudge. “Now, though... now Xanxus is troubling you so much. As his father, I apologise.”

“And for Iemitsu?” Ietsuna crossed his arms.

“Ie, he's still our father... sorry...” Tsuna wilted suddenly. “You might not want to call him our father, after all...”

“It's not your fault, Tsunayoshi-kun,” Timoteo admitted. “The fault is Iemitsu's. Just like this case... the fault is mine alone.”

“B- But, Jii-san-” Tsuna started.

“So, what do we do now?” Alouette asked. “My cute Tsu-chan was knocked out by that Monsieur Reborn, and he's targeting my student too... I don't like it. Especially you, Timoteo.”

“Who's your cute Tsu-chan...” Ietsuna muttered under his breath as the Vongola Ninth Boss broke out in cold sweat.

“Your shitty son and his coterie hosted a house-warming party that disrupted the peace of Namimori, Timoteo,” Alouette listed. “My grandson is out of town for the moment, so the discipline of his territory falls to me at the moment. I've already plucked them to death, and I'll be billing the Vongola. Got it?”

“B- But, Madame Lei-”

“ _Vous voudriez être plumer à la mort aussi, hein?_ ”9

Tsuna immediately turned to his twin. “Alouette-san is so strong~! Just like Hibari-san, she won without fighting!”

“...Right, Tsuna...” Ietsuna sweat-dropped. “Does it count if odd animal-based threats are made, I wonder...”

“But, the root problem of instability within the Vongola hasn't changed,” Alouette flipped her switch from threatening to serious. “I don't think either of you want to be Boss either, especially since the position of Vongola Boss requires six more people to follow the Boss candidate. And with Xanxus agitating for change, having three candidates could tear apart the Vongola, depending on how many jackals there are within the Iron Fort at present.”

“The fact remains that we're twins, and it's troublesome for that idiot Iemitsu,” Ietsuna summed up. “Haven't twins ascended together as Boss before?”

“Yes, even right now,” Alouette nodded. “They tend to avoid that in Italy, though. The legend of Rome's foundation plays a part here.”

“Legend?” Tsuna echoed.

“Twin sons, Romulus and Remus, were born as demigod sons of either Mars or Hercules,” Ietsuna recalled. “They were set afloat on the Tiber River, and nursed by a she-wolf. When they grew up, they rescued their deposed grandfather and then went on to found their own city. Remus died, and the resulting city was named after Romulus; Roma, later the city of Rome. In some versions, Remus was struck down dead after jumping over the wall his brother was building; in other versions, supporters of Romulus killed him for belittling Romulus' work, but in most versions... Romulus killed his own twin.”

“You're fairly well-read,” Timoteo agreed. “Yes.”

“That's stupid.” Ietsuna sniped back.

“I agree,” Timoteo nodded. “But the fact remains, that I have failed the two of you, and Xanxus as well, and now Xanxus and his posse have murder in their minds. What will you do, then?”

“We... have people to protect,” Tsuna fidgeted. “We're... technically part of the peacekeepers in the town, so- we can't really not fight. Not if your son... not if Xanxus persists in this course of action. If it comes down to us against him...”

“I'll always choose Tsuna first,” Ietsuna stated. “If it comes down to that...”

“I, too, will choose my family first,” Tsuna admitted slowly. “You will have to recall Reborn, Vongola Ninth Boss. I cannot trust a tutor who would murder my brother.”

“Please, call me Timoteo-”

“No,” Tsuna firmly refused. “I'm not asking you as a family friend. I'm asking you as the Ninth Boss of the Vongola Famiglia. If the Famiglia cannot guarantee Ie's safety, then it's not worth calling Family, and I would be better off asking Alouette-san to adopt me. Because then... at least Ie would become the sole heir.”

“Is there a need to go that far?” Ietsuna asked.

“Ah, this old woman would always welcome Tsu-chan into the Hibari family,” Alouette cooed. “But, Tsu-chan... you'll be discarding your ancestors and family background. All of your family history with it too.”

“That's a drastic move,” Timoteo cautioned. “You'll essentially be throwing away any and all relations to the Sawada bloodline, but you'll still be hunted for your blood.”

“But it's the only way Ie can be safe, and happy... right?” Tsuna's eyes were filled with unshed tears, like he was trying to go on, or he was convincing himself that what he just spoke was a good idea, and in fact necessary, despite it being a tough decision.

“No...” Tsuna looked up as his twin started to trace his shoulders with artist's fingers. “Tsuna. I'm glad that you think of me that much... but you really don't _want_ to do that, in your heart. All I ever wanted for you was your happiness and safety.”

“But- Ie- I...”

“No if's, and's, or but's,” Ietsuna refused. “It's my fault for dropping it on you so early. Look, the sun's already setting, so we'll get some rest, alright? Sorry, Jii-san, Maître.”

“Apologies, and good night,” Timoteo waved with Alouette as the twins departed.

“So,” Alouette spoke once the door closed. “Did you finally realise what your choice of heir did? You should have just picked Sawada Iemitsu as your heir and been done with it all, even if the old guard argues with you. That idiot loves Vongola as much as Lorenzo ended up despising it.”

“I don't want to hear it from the youngest Guardian of the Generazione Ottava,” Timoteo shot back, almost petulant. “You retired early.”

“Are you still sore that I refused? You still found Visconti, right?” Alouette laughed at him, turning on her heel to bow down and glance through her lashes. “I took the same road the boys are deciding on now. Whether to choose a Family that doesn't care, or to strike out and create their own Family. We larks do know, after all, the fate of being alone.”

“I remember,” Timoteo agreed. “The famed founder of the CEDEF, who survived seven Bosses, and died of loneliness. It could almost be a walking death, so their journals wrote.”

“I... I was lost too,” Alouette reflected. “I survived with my children in Cambodia, and I brought them around the world, but there was... I always found myself looking at the sky, wanting to fall such that my soul would reach Heaven at last. Blundering in the darkness, simply waiting... mired in the depths of our own emotions. I'd probably have died, mired in despair and boredom in Namimori, if that day Tsu-chan and Na-chan never picked a fight with Kyoya...”

She closed her eyes. “It gets easier, being alone. Yet, I hope Kyoya never needs to experience it. If it makes me less of a carnivore to admit that, that's alright, because the fate of being alone is much worse.”

“...” Timoteo hunched his shoulders, and then straightened his back. “I will meet Reborn and Iemitsu tomorrow. We will decide then.”

“And the boys?”

“...we are old, and we have made mistakes which we no longer have the power to change,” Timoteo confessed. “The times change, and justice fades. Perhaps... perhaps the night must fall, before the Sky can rise. If that is so... I am a Boss, I cannot say it.”

“To admit it is akin to blasphemy to a Boss?” Alouette noted. “Is the Vongola so rotted that you hope for its destruction, Timoteo?”

“He's a crybaby, and indecisive, and kind, and cares so much. His brother has so much common sense but chooses to fight for his brother. Why did the Vongola come to this?”

Alouette clicked her tongue, moving towards her purse. “You're very kind, Timoteo. Lorenzo would praise and curse that kindness of your in the same sentence. He planned contingencies, but he believed in you.”

“D- Did he?”

“He gave you fair warning that he was leaving, right? He just left in a different and more permanent manner than you expected. Then he left permanently.”

Timoteo winced as a slim volume slapped itself on his head. Muttering a curse under his breath, he picked it up. _Gatsby le Magnifique_ , the words still shimmered, slightly dented from where his old friend had slapped him upside the head with it during his younger and more vulnerable years.

“ _Car c'est ainsi que nous allons, barques luttant contre un courant qui nous ramène sans cesse vers le passé._ ” Timoteo murmured. “'So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.'”

“He still kept it,” Alouette admitted. “I borrowed it, and... he never got it back. But it was his enchanted object.”

“...yes,” Timoteo admitted. “He turned out alright in the end.”

* * *

_**1 FR: No problem**_

_**2 FR: for the house-warming party, you know?** _

_**3 FR: this is unexpected.** _

_**4 FR: Please, help him** _

_**5 FR: But yes, my pupil. Now, go.** _

_**6 FR: How interesting, that black flame... but it would be very tragic** _

_**7 FR: Calm down, madame!** _

_**8 La Cosa Nostra, AKA the Mafia** _

_**9 FR: You want to be plucked to death too, right?**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised that the Vindice could easily be the strongest Famiglia ever, and that Amano probably had to apply the Worf Effect real thick for our protagonists to even have a minuscule chance of defeating them.
> 
> Please review!


	20. Folio 19: Tenebroso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Leafy 365

_I can only use this power when Tsuna is asleep or unconscious?_

Ietsuna exhaled, and black flame wreathed his form before he blinked out of existence from the hospital roof, to reappear above, plummeting for a long moment before a _fwip_ disappeared him back into Tsuna's room and onto his feet. He idly picked up an empty glass from the water stand and took a long drink, before he glanced at the emptied glass.

Black flame wreathed his hand, and the glass disappeared at the same time the window shattered.

“Sweet.” Ietsuna grinned, but the sobered. “That means I have to be extra careful not to teleport myself into other things. I wonder how moving objects would look. Or humans...”

Picturing Reborn exploding into a million bloody shards when something was teleported into the baby hitman made him feel much better, at least until he looked towards Tsuna. “Tsuna... I need you. I don't know how to judge.”

* * *

“Welcome! How may I be of assistance? says Elmo, far too happy to see this particular stranger – to whom she _definitely_ has no relation to – than should be possible.”

Caramel eyes blinked. “Ah? Huh?”

The girl with spiky brown locks made a hop, skip and jump towards Tsuna, clasping his hands. They were standing in a shallow pool of deep blue, and the girl's orange taffeta dress stood out all the more like her twin pigtails. “Oh, another wanderer has come to our home! How may I address you? Elmo asks while eagerly awaiting this stranger's reply. Really, adds Elmo.”

“Erm, I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi... just call me Tsuna-”

“Yes, Uncle it is! Elmo interrupts without listening to this stranger.” The girl let go of Tsuna, backing slightly over the cool blue flooring of a very strange place that seemed to stretch across horizons without stopping.

“S- She's not even listening!” Tsuna exclaimed as she spun off on a road of yellow brick. “W- Who are you? And why are you narrating everything?!”

“Papa named me Elmo, but that is not Elmo's birth name, Elmo replies,” the girl chirped in answer. “Elmo's name is **classified information.** Elmo then continues: Elmo is the administrator and protector of this place, like how the flames of St. Elmo were said to protect ships and sailors.”

“G- Guardian? This place?” Tsuna echoed.

“Mm-hmm, Elmo confirms. “The rest...”

Tsuna leant forward at her long drag.

“...is **classified information** , so Elmo finishes inconclusively,” Elmo ended. “Uncle must be here, because of the **classified information** input which influenced the space-time fabric within **classified information** , so Elmo is meeting you here and now.”

“Ah...” Tsuna demurred, “do you know that you keep saying that? Classified information... and why do you keep referring to yourself by name? How old are you, Elmo-chan?”

“I suppose, if you use the Gregorian calendar, I am **classified information** , Elmo counts while ticking off her fingers in a physical demonstration meant to show comfort,” she counted off her fingers. “ **Classified information** must have input the Yet-To-Come censor into Elmo, so all **classified information** becomes **classified information**.” 1

“Are you cosplaying?!” Tsuna retorted heatedly. “ _Haruhi Suzumiya_ hasn't been released yet! And why am I talking about this so calmly?! And Elmo-chan, why are you talking about yourself like a robot?”

“ **Classified information** , c **lassified information, classified information** -!” she idly continued in the same light monotone. “As the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration, Elmo is only as good as her duty is carried out. This is my created purpose, Elmo adds, sensing Uncle's confusion.”

“C- Created purpose?” Tsuna echoed. “This is... very weird...”

“Chang-chang! Elmo claps lightly.” Spinning on one foot to make the hems of her puffy orange skirt flare out, much like a mermaid, Elmo nodded. “Correct, uncle! Elmo adds. Elmo is a **classified information** masterpiece, able to see into four dimensions and **classified information**. If you like, think of this as a dream.”

“Ah...” _Oh, this is my dream. I see! So, I just have to listen to this girl who looks too much like Ie- Wait. She called me Uncle... don't tell me, this is-_

“Elmo adds: if you continue to dream, you will die.”

“Hold on, what did you just say?!”

 _Stab_ , and Elmo smiled cutely as her teeth lowered and she exhaled over the fluttering pulse in Tsuna's neck, her hands still making sucking sounds as she reached for his heart.

“One day, what Elmo personifies will gnaw you to death, Elmo states while looking at Uncle with an unreadable expression,” she narrated. “Vongola Decimo, Elmo is the eater of your flesh and the personification of your _death_.”

She bit down-

“WAAAHH!”

A bead of cold sweat rolled down his throat, Tsuna shivered as his eyes adjusted to the dim of the hospital ward. Outside, a skylark's warble resounded to greet the dawn.

“Oh... it's a dream,” Tsuna exhaled. “Why...”

“What's... wrong...?” Ietsuna yawned lightly, struggling from where he was curled up on a plastic iron-framed chair. “You look... pale.”

“I- It's nothing. Just a bad, dream, that's all, Ie,” Tsuna shook his head, recalling the events of the evening before. Reborn rushing towards him with the giant green mallet... Ietsuna accusing Reborn of-

“Are you alright, Ie?!” Tsuna suddenly exclaimed, flailing in the bedclothes of his hospital bed. “Reborn tried to kill you!”

“Uh, I'm good,” Ietsuna yawned. “I'm alive, aren't I?”

“Why are you so calm?!” Tsuna retorted.

“I'm still alive,” Ietsuna shrugged aside the fact of his failed assassination. “I'm more irritated by the fact that he wanted to use my death to manipulate you. I survived everything that came with him: Poison Cooking, Trident Mosquitoes, that fetish-pervert, Mukuro's perversion on you under thinly veiled allusions to Hindu mythology-”

“How on earth did you figure that out?” Tsuna cut in. “Have you guys even talked since Kokuyo burned down?!”

“-and I'm still alive,” Ietsuna commented, completely ignoring Tsuna's questions. “As long as it's for you, nothing else matters.”

“That's what I'm afraid of!” Tsuna said heatedly, overlooking his brother’s attempts at joviality. “You... you think nothing of killing other people. When we were kids, and those bullies- you dug holes, lured them to the playground, and waited for them to fall in! You threw stones at them while they were crying! And what was that shovel for? What would you have done to them if I hadn’t stopped you?”

“Well, they were already in the holes, and they were being so loud. Logically, it follows that I would fill the holes: no one else gets caught in the trap and the loud noises would go away, right” Ietsuna reasoned, perfectly logical except for the part where he was talking about burying children alive.

“Ie,” Tsuna looked at his twin. “Those are humans. Just like you and me. Their lives are-”

“Nothing compared to you, Tsuna,” Ietsuna finished. It was scary, how seriously Ietsuna promised it, and how seriously he loved his brother.

“You've always been like that...” Tsuna sighed, unwilling to go through this circular argument again. “This is all my fault. If I could protect myself, then you wouldn’t kill anyone. Everyone you’ve hurt or killed... it's because of me.”

“ _I_ _e, what did you say? Kaa-san's fainted!”_

“ _I told her that she's a lousy mother_ _and she should just die.”_

“ _E- You didn't have to put it like that!_ _She just made prawns for lunch! Apologise!”_

“ _Why? I'm right. If you're strong enough to remind her that you break out in hives when you eat too many prawns, I wouldn't have to say it like that.”_

“No,” Ietsuna rejected firmly. “I do what I do out of my own volition. As long as you're safe and happy, I don't care about the rest of the world. Even if Reborn wanted to kill me, I wouldn't care.”

“Yes... you care so much for me, but you don't care for yourself at all, and I worry for you... and everyone,” Tsuna admitted. _Assert yourself, or I’ll do it for you..._ “So... what was I fighting for? Reborn tried to kill you... why did I trust him?”

“It's not your fault,” Ietsuna assured. “The Ninth must have gotten into contact with Reborn already, since I'm not dead. I'm safe for now. Now, we have to focus on Xanxus.”

“Y- Yes...” Tsuna nodded. “I... I regretted... not being able to stop you.”

A stray thought surfaced; Elmo was smiling as she began to bite and gnaw and tear him apart. Tsuna shuddered, but gave his dark mirror a considering glance.

 _Uncle_...

Surely not, he dismissed as he washed his face in the hospital's toilet. Ietsuna was still here, and he wasn't dating, and Tsuna was fairly sure that Ietsuna knew contraceptives better than him. In fact, Ietsuna had been the one to confiscate a large box of condoms during their patrol at Tanabata2 months ago around the Namimori Shrine, and started to distribute them. Several red-faced couples moving to hang up their prayers had walked away with a freebie and a curt lecture on safe sex – “Use and dispose cleanly, or our chairman will bite you to death.”

At the end of the day, though, Ietsuna had pointedly flung the remains of the economy-size box at their chairman's head, while Tsuna went to hang his prayer on the wishing tree. Hibari's smirk had prompted Tsuna to avoid him for the rest of the week, until Hibari was back to normal.

“It's like Tanabata,” Tsuna murmured. “I wished to protect everyone.”

“It sounds like a fiddly wish,” Ietsuna commented. “If it were me, I'd wish for everyone's safety to be guaranteed. No loose interpretation, no chance of it going wrong. A simple guarantee.”

No, Tsuna decided. Ie would never leave such a thing to chance. There was something else, some more sinister force at hand. Something... about the Flame of Night. What was with all the ' **classified information** ', anyway?

[ http://www.zerochan.net/1048555 ](http://www.zerochan.net/1048555)

* * *

“ _Nǐ hǎo_ , Reborn.”

“I thought you were still stalking your mother,” Reborn sneered the Storm Arcobaleno, cradling his glowing Pacifier.

Fon just smiled back pleasantly, aware of Reborn’s volatile mood and the reasons for it. Broken bones were never pleasant, but for the Arcobaleno it was a more serious issue. Being reverted into the physical body of a baby was bad enough psychologically, but it also severely reduced their fighting capabilities physically. The time needed to spend healing would rob Reborn of his hard-won muscular definition and capability. Proprioception was a hard-won thing that Reborn had dearly missed while cursed.

“She had a myocardial infarction.” Fon might not have shown any outward reaction, but Reborn was suddenly acutely aware that he was treading on very thin ice.

With crutches. Fon would add a second break in his legs very soon. “Sorry.”

“It is alright.” Fon's gaze flickered to the side, toying with his braid. “You are... _well_.”

It must be a Chinese thing, Reborn thought. Since the same syllable could mean nine or ten different words, Fon's pause must mean every variation of the unspoken question _are you alright?_ “It's just a flesh wound.”

“Ah?” _One that requires you to be in traction?_

“You try being dropped two hundred metres without a parachute,” Reborn sourly shot back. “At least Colonello doesn't know about it. Do you know that your mother is utterly insane?”

“Yes,” Fon acknowledged. “It is... expected. Members of our bloodline cannot stay too closely to each other without active bloodshed to unite us. We would murder each other first. It is for this reason that Mama lives away from my nephew and uses the house only on formal occasions, and U lives in Hong Kong most of the time.”

“So, you avoided going home because of this?” Reborn nodded. “But you know, right? The fate of being alone.”

“The stress of having to live so close to a younger member of the blood without lashing out preys upon my mother every day,” Fon agreed quietly. “I do not wish to add to her stresses, though I know that I am her son. As I am right now, it would only add to her stresses to war between her motherly love and her bloodlust.”

“...Family is tough amongst you guys,” Reborn nodded. “I need to go in now. If the Varia attacks...”

“What of it?” Fon smiled. Behind him, there burned a dim red aura of several luminous, gaping-jawed Chinese dragons that looked hungry for the blood of hapless idiots chasing after the old Frenchwoman somewhere in the hospital confines.

Fighting Fon when the latter was worked up over his mother was quickly becoming an unpalatable proposition, not the least because Reborn suspected that Fon would discard any and all sportsmanship where his mother was concerned. And Reborn was in no position to bargain either, injured as he was currently. “...Ciao.”

“ _Zàijiàn_ , Reborn.”

As the Sun Arcobaleno left, the Storm Arcobaleno settled back to his perch, watching a blonde chignon that could only be Alouette nodding off beside the pineapple-hair girl on a plastic stool. Very carefully, the black-haired baby in the red _changpao_ aimed a neck-pillow and prepared to fling it.

* * *

It must have been fate, Timoteo decided as the young Chiavarone boss left his ward, expression ashen. Fate that, so soon after notifying the young stallion of his kidnapping, the men he so wanted to regard were already present.

“ _Buon giorno,_ Reborn, Iemitsu,” Timoteo intoned, with an eye towards their shifting expressions. Even though he was the one hospitalised, the two grown men – albeit with one of them as a baby – shifted in their places, with a sense of unease whether standing or leaning. “Events have certainly been interesting these past few weeks. I did not expect that between the two of you, so much trouble and mayhem would erupt.”

Timoteo held up a hand to silence the protests from Reborn and Iemitsu, intent on speaking his mind.

“I have met _i gemelli Decimi_ _3_. We have had quite the enlightening conversation. Ietsuna-kun is certainly everything and nothing at all like I expected.”

“Nono, you must know about the black flame,” Iemitsu interrupted urgently. “It is too dangerous, especially around Tsuna. Ie is a danger, especially with that unknown power.”

“This black flame is not the most relevant mystery you believe it is. Are not all Flames dangerous? I lie on this hospital bed, weak from a lack of sustenance. Yet, my Flames could obliterate you in an instant. I would be out an External Advisor, but those are a dime a dozen these days,” Timoteo said calmly, but with an edge of maliciousness.

Iemitsu felt his mouth open unattractively, his arguments about Ietsuna’s dangerous presence caught in his throat. Did-did his Boss just threaten to kill him?

“He is your son, _cucciolo_ _, 4_” Timoteo pointed out continued relentlessly, his tone allowing allowing no more disrespect. “You are his father. Ietsuna is quite a talented, sensible boy, so very different from you. If he is really such a concern, Iemitsu, we would have acted much earlier.”

“The- There was the Flood of Blood,” Iemitsu feebly denied. “And... other matters...”

“And what does the Flood of Blood incident have to do with your son, Iemitsu? Do not think you can fumble your way out of this!” Timoteo was gesticulating now. “You told me one of your sons was a danger to the other, and from all that I knew, I capitulated. I met Ietsuna-kun once, and it seemed that way, from how we were transported to the Iron Fort with no one the wiser as to how. And yet... To order the death of your child... is unbearable. I would trade in my own life in an instant to revive Enrico, Massimo and Frederico if I could. Yet you so cavalierly acted otherwise, and I trusted you too much to notice the deepening unease I felt…” Timoteo trailed off.

Iemitsu was stunned. Never before had he been so ruthlessly berated by his Boss, and yet today, Nono had exploded at him with all the fury of an angry Sky. The silence in the hospital room was stifling, but neither Iemitsu nor Reborn felt steady enough to interrupt it.

“What do you think, Reborn?” Timoteo abruptly regarded the trusted Arcobaleno hitman. “I have given you many orders in the past, most of which you have accepted without protest. The few times you defied me, you were always correct to do so. Yet the one time I have made a horrible mistake, you have compounded it tenfold.

“I have only spoken with the twins a few times, but you have lived in their home for the past several months. I was able to see within a few minutes that Ietsuna-kun is clearly no threat to Tsunayoshi-kun, whether it is the past, present or future. What is your excuse, Reborn? I cannot believe that your eyes would fail you in such an important observation.”

Reborn bristled automatically at Timoteo’s harsh tone, but swallowed his considerable pride to answer. “Sawada Ietsuna is a threat to the Vongola,” Reborn countered. “He is capable of utilising the Zero Point Breakthrough with disturbing ease. He has no morals to speak of. There is nothing that can restrain him if his twin is hurt. And those black flames… they are twisted and corrupted.”

“Hmm?” Timoteo waited, never taking his eyes off of Reborn's form. “Oh? Nothing more to say, Reborn? This is your judgement? A boy loves his brother enough to do what he must to protect him. Clearly he is an immense danger to us all. I see. So Ietsuna-kun did what any trigger-happy assassin in our world would do, and by protecting his family he is hunted for it.”

Timoteo chuckled, completely devoid of any true humour. “I can say the same for you, or Iemitsu, or myself,” Timoteo was suddenly calm. Reborn almost flinched at the sound coming out of Nono’s mouth. “You are the World's Greatest Hitman and your pride is not to fail, at any cost. I am Boss of La Famiglia Vongola. Iemitsu is head of the _Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia_. Can we judge him as we are?”

“No, Nono,” Reborn gritted out. “We are not saints.”

“You are what you are, and I acknowledged that,” Timoteo reflected. “I gave you a home and a Family to return to. Never before have I cause to doubt your loyalty. Reborn, however, there is a first time for everything.

“Do speak now, with the complete truth,” Timoteo demanded, eyes flinty hard. Even from a hospital bed, he was an intimidating figure. “Why did you continue this mission, one that you must have known was a mistake? Tsunayoshi-kun is the only viable heir, and you have completely pushed him away. The truth, Reborn.”

“Che...” Reborn tsked, unable to lie to the Vongola's Ninth Boss. “...the boy thinks he can defy his and his brother's fate so clearly, he doesn't care about the consequences. Basil and I were dropped from a height of two hundred metres without aid. Or a parachute. I do not want the Vongola to face that kind of opponent, especially if he has a grudge against the Vongola.”

Timoteo stared hard at his long-time friend, slowly considering the words. “You have a broken leg, Reborn. You have given much worse to Dino when you were tutoring him. Is Basil alright?”

“He'll live,” Reborn scowled. “I'll say this, though. Sawada Ietsuna would be a better choice, except that he'll probably destroy the Vongola first. He would choose his brother over the entirety of the Family. That makes him dangerous enough, but combined with everything else, he might just become the Family's worst threat as the potential heir carrying a huge brother complex.”

Timoteo laughed long and hard. “Oh, my friend, you are a fool. You and Iemitsu, a pair of fools.”

Reborn bristled at being put into the same category as Iemitsu.

“If Ietsuna-kun had been “normal”, you would have destroyed Tsunayoshi-kun. But Ietsuna-kun scares you, so you aim to kill him and mould his twin into your idea of the perfect Mafia Boss. Allow me to enlighten you, gentlemen,” and here Timoteo gave them a long, hard glare. “If there was a choice between killing Xanxus, or allowing innocents to die by his hand... I would choose the former, no matter what. But... if I had to choose between Xanxus or the Vongola, though... that is a hard decision. Famiglia means absolutely nothing if the people choose the idea, over each other. I can understand why Lorenzo left-”

“He was a traitor!” Iemitsu exploded. “He left the Famiglia! He turned his back on everyone and tried to teach me to do the same!”

Timoteo sat back, deflating in weariness. “You are still a child, Iemitsu. A fool of a child,” he murmured to himself.

“Have I ever told you how exactly I met Lorenzo?”

* * *

_I was somewhere on the rue Saint-Denis after dark, and I had made the mistake of coming across some remnants of the Tractions Avant 5. It was a mistake, seeing as they believed me to be Corsican, but the point remained that my life was being threatened, surrounded as I was by several gun-bearing assassins. My back was directed to the wall, staff at the ready and willing to die standing if needed._

_A door creaked open, and the smell of butter and bread greeted me._

“ _Vous pouvez se battre après ma pause? 6_ _” the man started._

_I turned around, greeted by the off-white form of a man with part of his face streaked in flour. The mar, though, could not distract me from his assessing eyes, his disposition of absolute calm barely hurried. Under his arm was tucked a book._

_Slowly, behind him, the door closed._

“ _Vous devez partir maintenant,_ _” I told him. “_ _Allez-y!_ _” 7_

“ _Abruti!_ _” He threw the book at me. It hit me on the skull, and that was before its owner stepped forward. “_ _C'est pas pour vous, abruti, c'est pour ma pause._ ”8

“ _Quoi? Vous voulez devenir héro?_ _” one of them taunted, especially as the man started to slot his hands into his pockets. “_ _Et sans les mains, aussi! Vous êtes fou, chintok?_ _” 9_

“ _Les mains sont la vie d'un pâtissier_ _,” the man with those strangely exotic looks murmured in answer. Under the dark blue covers of_ Gatsby le Magnifique : en italien _, I stared at him and his daring. “_ _Mais, si vous vouliez_ _mes mains_ _sur vous, et si vous preniez mes savates tout d'abord?_ _” 10_

* * *

“ _Pour se faire pardonner, il offre un arc en ciel..._ oh, sorry, my thoughts wandered with me. That was how we met,” Timoteo finished the frankly horrifying first meeting of the Ninth Generation Vongola Sky and his Lightning. _11_

“Are you sure he was your Lightning Guardian and not your Cloud, Nono?” Reborn was the first to demand. “Rather, how did such a man produce such a no-good son?”

“Oi!” Iemitsu protested. “I didn't turn out that bad!”

* * *

“ _So, do you have an excuse for staying out until midnight this time, Mitsu?”_

_Young Sawada Iemitsu fidgeted, dangling upside down in the snare in his family home's entrance hall and wincing at his injuries. “Erm, I was directing sparrows!”_

“ _I see,” his father nodded at him with stern eyes. “Tell me what kind of sparrows managed to land a cut on you, so I can get the antibiotics. Which sparrow got in a gang fight after school, Mitsu?”_

“ _Shit! I can't tell him I was in a gang fight and skipped school!” Iemitsu shut his mouth quickly, but the damage was done._

“ _SAWADA IEMITSU!”_

* * *

“And, you have no idea how terrifying that man was!” Iemitsu complained.

“You skipped school, got into several fights with the Momokyokai, almost joined them, and then signed up with Vongola,” Reborn listed off. “He has every right to yell at you, you idiot.”

“He... Father hated the Vongola, Nono. He, and now- now Ietsuna, and Tsuna too... he's poisoning all my sons to go against me!” Iemitsu protested. “Even when he's dead and gone, his influence is still there! If that old bird files those adoption papers, the Vongola will lose Tsuna! Are you going to let him destroy the Vongola like this?”

“ _Cucciolo_ , you still do not understand, do you?” Timoteo sighed heavily. “Lorenzo warned me. He told me that his son was nothing like him; that you were a blockhead, to quote him. I wasn't inclined to take his advice after being punched in the face, but I see his sense now.”

“He called me a blockhead?!” Iemitsu bristled, but was hit with Reborn's crutches.

“You, Iemitsu, when I first saw you, all I could think of was how Lorenzo had gotten his wish,” Timoteo reflected. “We had not spoken in twenty some years, other than the occasional cryptic message left in the newspaper. And now here his son was, in the flesh. I thought Lorenzo had sent me a gift. I could see _Il Magnifico_ in your every gesture, your every word. Your laugh, your determination, your fighting stance... It was not until your wedding, when I came face to face with my lost brother that I realized he knew nothing about your actions. He concluded that I must have lured you into the Mafia. After your wedding, he told me to clear out of Namimori, lest I bring misfortune with me.”

“I remember,” Iemitsu retorted. “He abandoned the Family for his own wants-”

“No,” Timoteo disagreed. “You idiot blockhead, Lorenzo never abandoned anyone. In fact, it could be argued that Vongola abandoned him. I abandoned him. Times were very different back then... You would remember what Visconti said about your ascension to CEDEF. It was partly because of the manpower decrease due to _Mani pulite_ that you were able to prove yourself as head of the CEDEF.”12

“Yes...”

“Lorenzo...” Timoteo's tone grew reluctant, but also light. “Everyone thought he was a _pentito_ , or another civilian in over his head. He was an outsider with no proven blood in the Mafia. He was Magnificent, because he had to be. Until we found Giotto's name in the Sawada family register... Is it not strange that Sicilians rejected him, though his distant ancestor shared blood and love of the Trinacria with him? He was a stranger where he should have been at home. _13_ 14

“When his last proposal to increase protection of immigrants was shot down, he... he took a job in America. I was so worried, that this might have been the last straw... I found him at the Oratorio di San Lorenzo, looking at his favourite painting again. I had it stolen for him, but he cut all ties. He disappeared, and then fate brought us together again after twenty years.”

Timoteo sighed, the memory of that encounter filling him with nostalgia. “I don't blame him, because his loyalties have not changed since the start. Though he was treated as an outsider when he should have been family, he was loyal to me, and his blood family in Japan. He left the Family, _cucciolo_ , to give _you_ a father in your life. He left money in the world's longest-established bank for you and your children. In fact, he had done the Family a service in his absence, by ensuring your survival in this world, Iemitsu, and through you the remains of Primo's blood.”

Iemitsu huffed. “I don't want to hear it-”

“ _Iemitsu_.”

The external advisor flinched at the venom present. “...This is not about a dead man, it's just about Ietsuna. Tsuna will become the Boss, I've declared my support. Ietsuna will continue to follow Tsuna anywhere. And if he dies, so be it. It was his time already.”

“Do you understand what you're saying, Iemitsu?” Timoteo snapped, shocked at Iemitsu’s utter lack of paternal concern. “You're so willing to send one son to death? I'm telling you, that is not Lorenzo! Do you hate your father so much, that you’ve spent your entire life doing exactly the opposite of what he taught you? The world does not revolve around you and your ego and the Vongola, you blockhead!”

Timoteo drew a long breath. “When you joined Vongola, I was happy. I thought Lorenzo would be back at my side in spirit. How wrong I was! You have nothing of your father’s magnificence in you! Lorenzo left to protect his own family whereas you would sacrifice yours!”

“Speaking of which,” Timoteo started after drawing another breath, and with it the resulting eruption could have resembled Mt. Vesuvius.

“Iemitsu. I admit that I had serious misgivings between leaving the boys in Japan, and bringing them straight to Palermo fifteen years ago. You assured me that they would be protected. I did not question you then. I did not question the lack of guards, or even surveillance, around your sons then. I did not even ask about that clearly unsafe firearm in your house, even though we had been threatened with it by an unsuspecting elementary school student before. Clearly that was a mistake.”

“Erm... right.” Iemitsu nodded meekly. There was very little to deny, after all.

“However, your son, the one you want to see dead, has shed light on your rather dubious parenting skills,” Timoteo continued, “the lack of which has unwittingly led both remaining Vongola heirs hating the external advisor and their extremely neglectful father. There is frankly no basis for your actions, given that the CEDEF is too big an organisation for your sons to remain hidden. You might have remitted money back, but you left your whole family and most of the Vongola ignorant. What if you died? You might as well have thrown them to the wolves.”

“W- Well, the old bird was in town?” Iemitsu tried to deflect.

“So you left the safety of your sons to a single senior citizen, one whom you had no idea was my mother’s former Cloud Guardian,” Timoteo practically snarled. “The deaths of three of my sons have left me a broken shell of a man. Yet had they not died, would you have even remembered that you have two children? You fed me false information, capitalizing on my single encounter with the twins to skewer my perceptions and lead me to make a horrible decision. You actually tried to use the Famiglia to murder your own son?!?”

“He tried to ruin my marriage!”

“That's what children _do_!” Timoteo retorted.“A child with as much common sense as Ietsuna-kun, what they do is they talk some sense into their mothers to get them away from their frankly neglectful spouses! Put some effort into your _bloody_ marriage instead of blaming your son!”

“He swore.” Reborn stared.

“And you, Reborn,” Timoteo rounded on the Arcobaleno. “I have not overlooked you. What have you actually taught Tsuna?”

Reborn opened his mouth to respond, then closed it when he couldn’t truthfully come up with anything.

“We have spent so long arguing about how Tsuna must become Decimo and why Ietsuna must be killed, that no one has even considered how Tsuna must feel,” Timoteo pointed out. “Does he understand what the Decimo position means? Have you explained anything to him, Reborn? Or were you hoping to toss him in and drown him in it, and hope that his good nature would win out?”

Timoteo stopped. “There is no justice in this world, Reborn, but even I can tell that we've gone about it the wrong way.”

Timoteo swallowed, as if the realisation was a bitter gall. Reborn and Iemitsu looked down and away, unable or unwilling to face the same realisation.

“The approach we took was for someone who would presumably never find any support in his life and always feel alone,” Timoteo reflected. “That was our miscalculation.”

“ _I hate... I hate... for him, I hate_ _ **all of you**_ _!”_

_Black fire consumed the gun, causing it to explode and for the kitchen's smoke alarm to ring out loud and clear as the black blaze reigned..._

“As alien and as unusual we might find Ietsuna... I cannot deny it. We have been unfair to one brother over the other. No wonder Tsunayoshi-kun refuses to have anything to do with the Mafia. All he’s seen of it is violence because that’s all we’ve shown him.”

“Nono-” the other two men immediately began protesting.

“SHUT. UP.” Timoteo’s Sky Flames burst out, potent and intoxicating in their rage and protection. “The two of you have put Vongola’s future into jeopardy with your own selfish motivations, and yet have the gall to claim that you’re doing this for the Famiglia?!”

Reborn could see how someone like Xanxus could possibly have been taken in by Vongola Nono.

“Reborn,” Timoteo rounded on the baby hitman, but deflated somewhat. “There is a deeper reasoning to your actions. I will not presume to pry into them, though I understand your surface intentions, however vile. You may not listen to me, I realise. This is asking a lot of you, as the world's greatest hitman, but the hit has been retracted. It is not your fault, it is mine.”

“...yes, Nono,” Reborn submitted, his mind whirling. “You have a compromise in mind. The point here is to prevent Sawada Ietsuna and Xanxus from seizing the Tenth position.”

“Something like that,” Timoteo agreed. “Ietsuna-kun is the most suited to be the Boss, except for the fact that he cares for nothing except Tsuna.”

“Xanxus just wants to kill the twins and take over the Vongola,” Reborn sarcastically summed up. “Ietsuna might not be the original Lorenzo's ghost, risen from the grave to wreck vengeance on the Vongola. _Yet_ , Ietsuna would _definitely_ wreck vengeance if we manipulate and force Tsuna into the Vongola. Tsuna doesn't want to become Boss, but he would, if it means protecting Ietsuna. Tsuna is the best option only by virtue of his sanity, but now he might not want to become Boss.”

Iemitsu stirred. “But, Tsuna-”

“Their future is no longer yours to decide! You gave up that right long before you manipulated me into ordering a hit on your son!” Timoteo snapped back, silencing the external advisor. “Continue, Reborn.”

“However, I can no longer function as a home tutor, since both of them probably hate me now,” Reborn finished. “Normally, I'd just bully my way through, but this time it is not a viable option. We must use honeyed words to placate them now, Nono.”

“Yes, attempting to assassinate one of them would indeed earn you their hate and distrust,” Timoteo bitingly commented. “Why did you choose that moment to reveal your true mission, Reborn? Also, it has not escaped my notice that you believe my son to be disposable. You might have leeway to treat your students however you want, but this is going too far. When this situation is over, you and I are going to have a long talk about your future in Vongola.”

“...he tries to escape his fate, and with it destroy the Vongola, without thought of the greater consequences or his allies,” Reborn confessed. “I can sense, that the only thing of value in his world is Tsuna. Nono, idiot-Iemitsu, Basil, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Hibari, Rokudo Mukuro, Lambo, I-Pin, Bianchi, Shamal... even myself, are disposable in his eyes. Somehow he's immune to death itself, and his intelligence is sharp in an unpredictable way. That kind of combination is just waiting for one spark to set it off, and burn us all with him.”

“...so this is about the Pacifiers,” Timoteo caught on.

“My Pacifier was almost frozen by him,” Reborn nodded. “He never showed any hesitation to freeze Skull. No matter if he knew of the potential consequences behind murdering an Arcobaleno, he still showed no hesitation. And before that, he was perfectly willing to murder Gokudera Hayato in broad daylight to protect Tsuna, and would have done so if Tsuna did not stop him. He is insane and has only one controller, Nono, and that is why Ietsuna must die.”

“That’s exactly what you told me when I decided to bring Xanxus home.”

“And how did that turn out?” Reborn shot back without thinking.

“Reborn, you brought all these elements of danger into the lives of the twins and expect them to react in a certain way. When they don’t – when Ietsuna attempts to kill Gokudera Hayato to _protect_ his twin, you have the nerve to complain. The fault of Xanxus lies with me,” Timoteo admitted, “but it seems that we are all at fault here.”

Iemitsu looked down, like there was something interesting in the blank flooring of the hospital ward with its ammonia smell and harsh lighting. “But what about their training? It doesn't change the fact that Xanxus will be coming to kill them and take the Rings. And now Reborn can't...”

“That's true,” Timoteo admitted. “I will have to ask... Alouette.”

All three men winced.

* * *

“Ah, Chrome-chan, I want cake~!” Alouette sang towards an approaching Chrome.

Mist descended, and Mukuro glared at the old woman where Chrome had been. “Have you no self-respect, old woman? And, where did that neck-pillow come from?”

“This?” Alouette pointed to her neck. “Some kind soul threw it in through the window. How kind~!”

“No,” Mukuro sighed, before throwing the plastic bag he currently held at her. “Your medicine.”

“Thank you,” Alouette beamed at him.

“This is the first time I've seen someone like you,” Mukuro sighed, as if the old bird gave him an ulcer due to stress. “Attacking a gang of assassins simply for your walking stick... if you died, do you have any idea the trouble you'll cause others? Especially me.”

“When you say it like that, it almost sounds like you care, Mukuro-kun,” Alouette grinned. “Or are you still not up to buying pads and tampons-”

“I'll pass, thank you.”

“What a shy boy,” Alouette teased. “Do you want further explanation? You who can eat while watching spaghetti horror films, but can't even think about Chrome's men-”

“You're wrong,” Mukuro objected. “I am merely interested in the safety of myself and my own. Sawada Tsunayoshi and Sawada Ietsuna are the only ways to ensure that, especially if I possess young Tsunayoshi's body...”

“All good men are gay or taken, I suppose.” Alouette lamented. “What will Chrome-chan think?”

Mukuro gave her an indulgent smirk. Across from them, the doors to two wards opened. One with Tsuna and Ietsuna, the other with the three Mafiosi gathered.

“Alouette-san,” both parties spoke at the same time.

“...you're in really high demand, old bird,” Mukuro teased.

“ _Je te plumerai à la mort, 15_” Alouette sourly retorted.

* * *

Around the quiet forest of Aokigahara, the Varia watched as a corpse building went up in flames. The corpse, by the way, was by no fault of theirs, for once. Also known as the Suicide Forest, the thirty-five square-kilometre forest north-west of Mount Fuji in Japan is known for being exceptionally quiet and being popular for suicides despite several signs to the contrary.

“Ushishishi, this stinks,” Belphegor complained. “Mammon, are the Rings really here? This place reeks just of despair without blood.”

Mammon sneezed into another piece of paper. “No, they left.”

“Shit!” A tree and its dangling corpse went up in Flames under Xanxus's snarl. “We should go back and kill them all.”

“VOI! Don't rush, shitty Boss,” Squalo gnashed his teeth.

“Still, the Japanese really know how to up the ante,” Levi's teeth chattered. “D- Don't worry, Boss! I'll be on hand to protect-”

A branch cracked, and Levi's eyes bugged out as a rotting arm dropped onto his shoulder and his soul prepared to leave his body.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

“Shut up!” Belphegor and Squalo kicked Levi.

“Still, they chose a pretty strange place to lose us,” Lussuria commented. “The forest is empty of wildlife, and the trees are so dense they block the wind, so it is eerily silent.”

A strangled scream followed them. A tree branch dropped, one bulging eye catching their gazes before the woman expired, the light fading in her eye.

“I'll make this merciful,” Belphegor drew a knife and flung it, the blade embedding itself into the eye and brain and putting the woman out of her misery.

“...except for the cries of suicidal people at night.” Mammon swallowed. _Even with Varia Quality, they'll get lost in this forest... until Xanxus decides to burn his way out. It'll take a week. After that, I can't buy any more time-_

“They're not here,” Xanxus declared.

“What?” Mammon echoed most of the Varia's sentiments.

“They must be doubling back to Namimori. We're going back.”

“VOI! What the hell?!” Squalo scowled. “Fine. The sooner we're out of this creepy forest, the better.”

Footsteps echoed, and Belphegor stopped. “Mammon, are you coming with?”

Mammon glanced around. “Belphegor... what happened to the corpse?”

“Corpse? The prince doesn't know or care- it's gone?” The Prince the Ripper caught on. “It's an illusion?”

“I can't see,” Mammon lied, hoping to draw the Varia back.

“Voi, I don't care,” Xanxus ordered. “Bel, Mammon, we're going.”

“Yes, Boss!” Levi flailed as he ran to follow behind Xanxus.

“But-”

“No one with an ounce of Dying Will would ever come to this place!” Xanxus retorted. “You know it too. This very place is the antithesis of our world, a world where people choose death. No, those dogs in the CEDEF just set us up for a wild goose chase. We'll go back to Namimori and set a trap for them. They won't know what's going to hit them.”

 _Xanxus may not have Vongola blood, but his intuition could rival Nono’s!_ Mammon's panic was concealed as the illusion of the dying woman faded, showing only Belphegor's knife embedded into the ground. _I can't buy any more time! Skull, hurry up and find Verde!_

* * *

1 _**Yet-To-Come is written as** _ _**未来る** _ _**or Mi-Ku-Ru (i.e. "future"). This is a reference to Asahina Mikuru, whose catch-phrase is 'that's classified information'. Otaku reference: the 2** _ _**nd** _ _**manga series of Haruhi Suzumiya was released by Kadokawa Press in November 2005. The fic is dated October 2005.** _

 

 

_**2Tanabata (** _ _**七夕** _ _**?, meaning "Evening of the seventh"), also known as the Star Festival, is a Japanese festival originating from the Chinese Qixi Festival. It celebrates the meeting of the deities Orihime and Hikoboshi (represented by the stars Vega and Altair respectively). According to legend, the Milky Way separates these lovers, and they are allowed to meet only once a year on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month of the luni-solar calendar. The date of Tanabata varies by region of the country, but the first festivities begin on July 7 of the Gregorian calendar. The celebration is held at various days between July and August.** _

3 _**ITA: The Decimi twins (I'm not sure about this translation, but I'm sure that the adjective is supposed to follow the noun, and Timoteo is definitely using 'Tenth' as an adjective of 'twins', which is a plural word)** _

_**4ITA: Lion cub.** _

5 _**In France, the** _ _ **Gang des Tractions Avant** _ _**was a criminal gang in the Pigalle quarter of Paris, made up of surviving members of the Carlingue militia, lapsed police officers and criminals from the French Resistance. Most of them had moved from collaboration with the German occupiers to Resistance, and then moved into organised crime – though even if their milieu changed, their behaviour and methods remained the same. The gang was known after its preferred vehicle, the Citroën 11CV "Traction", used for hold-ups as violent as they were audacious.** _

_**6FR: Can you fight after my break?** _

_**7FR: Yu must leave now, go!** _

_**8FR: This isn't for you, idiot, this is for my break.** _

9 _**FR : What? You want to become a hero ? And without the hands, too ? Are you crazy, Chink? (derogatory term for a Chinese person. Do** _ _ **not** _ _**use this at home)** _

_**10FR: The hands are the life of a pâtissier. But, if you want my hand on you, how about you take my old shoes first?** _

11 _**FR: To be forgiven, it offers a rainbow (this is the final line of the French chanson '** _ _**Sous le ciel de Paris** _ _**' or Under Paris Skies.)** _

_**12Mani pulite (pronounced [ˈmani puˈlite], Italian for "clean hands") was a nationwide Italian judicial investigation into political corruption held in the 1990s. Mani pulite led to the demise of the so-called First Republic, resulting in the disappearance of many parties. Some politicians and industry leaders committed suicide after their crimes were exposed. In some accounts, as many as 5000 people have been cited as suspects. More than 400 city and town councils were dissolved because of corruption charges. The estimated value of bribes paid annually in the 1980s by Italian and foreign companies bidding for large government contracts in Italy reached 4 billion dollars (6.5 trillion lire). The corruption system uncovered by these investigations was usually referred to as Tangentopoli (Italian pronunciation: [tanʤenˈtɔpoli]). The term derives from tangente, which means kickback and in this context refers to kickbacks given for public works contracts., and poli meaning city; it is thus sometimes translated as "Bribesville" or "Kickback City" and initially attributed to the city of Milan, where the investigations started, and later used as a synonym of the corruption system.** _

_**13Pentito (Italian pronunciation: [penˈtiːto]; "he who has repented", plural pentiti) designates people in Italy who, formerly part of criminal or terrorist organizations, following their arrests decide to "repent" and collaborate with the judicial system to help investigations. In the wake of the Maxi Trial in 1986-87, and after the testimony of Tommaso Buscetta, the term was more often used for former members of the Sicilian Mafia who abandoned their organization and started helping in investigations.** _

_**14 The word Trinacria means triangle and refers to the shape of the island of Sicily (“Sicilia” in Italian), the largest island in the Mediterranean. The island of Sicily was known as Trinacrium by the Romans, meaning “star with three points.” The Trinacria symbol is the head of Medusa (a gorgon with a head of snakes), surrounded by three bent running legs, and three stalks of wheat. Due to the island's distinct triangular shape, the symbol has also been adopted by the Sicilian government and is located on the center of Sicily's flag. The Trinacria's shape is often referred to as a triskelion; this shape can be found in many places among the general Mediterranean Basin region and in many European countries like France, Sicily, Crete, Greece, the North African coast, and the Isle of Man. The triskelions found in these locations have all dated back to after the eighth century BC.** _

_**15 FR: I will pluck you to death.** _


	21. Folio 20: Alla prima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finals coming up, so posting for this chapter and the next have been delayed, sorry! – LLS

Into some undetermined time of the future, Elmo put a slender finger to her rosy lips, seated primly with her legs tucked under her voluminous skirt. Surrounding them was a sea of deep ultramarine blue. Her skirt was the only vibrant spot in that gloomy shadow. Her feathery-looking locks fanned out on either side of her head, a crown of wings on either side of her head as she gazed at the object of her ire.

“ **Classified information**! Why did you switch on the Yet-To-Come censor?! Elmo screams at authorised user **classified information.** ”

“Erm, it's wasn't me,” the green-haired young man with the large apple hat drawled back. “By the way, that Yet-To-Come censor applies to everyone, even the readers, right?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with this?! Elmo complains. Our sisters are also **classified information**!” Elmo stomped her foot.

“It's still not me,” the young man retorted. “ **C** **lassified information** and **classified information** , this Grade S _zettai ryouiki_ is blaming me for her Asahina cosplay.”

“Who's cosplaying, you **classified information**? Elmo complains to Papa and other authorised users in the user group labelled Pyxis,” Elmo growled. “And, you're a human! You're the only Mist user in the Pyxis user group! Why do you have the Yet-to-Come censor?!”

“Because I wanted to, **classified information**.”

“You piss me off! Elmo yells to show her supreme irritation,” Elmo relented. “But, if it's not you... Papa initiated the censor?”

“That means that you talk too much. You should be happy as a clam, since we're having _spaghetti alle vongole 1_. Oh wait, aren't those your-”

Elmo pointed a finger at him, a bolt of bluish Flame ready to be shot. “No. We'll be having _cuisses de grenouille 2_. Your legs will be served to Papa!”

“Fran is right, Elmo,” a voice cut in, its originator appearing surrounded by the inky blackness of Night Flames. “Today's dinner is _spaghetti alle vongole in rosso 3_. The blood of the Vongola Family will flavour dinner when we kill them all in revenge.”

There was a tension in the air that covered all three speakers, before... “I'll pass if we're cannibalising the Vongola,” Fran drawled. “Oh, I ruined the tension.”

“...Elmo, slap him.”

“Elmo obeys.”

“Ow!”

* * *

"No, Ie, it's a bad idea to cut off Reborn's hands!"

"Ie! Please don't try to kill Reborn by tossing him off a cliff again!"

"Bad Ie! You're not supposed to get revenge on Reborn by telling Hibari-san that 'the baby is a first class fighter and needs someone to beat up and you looked weak to him'"

On and on it went, as one brother tried to restrain the other from inflicting permanent harm on Ietsuna's would-be assassin. If anyone noticed that Tsuna's denials were a bit half-hearted, well, who could blame him?

In any case, the true issue at hand was Xanxus and his band of insane psychopathic killers gunning for Tsuna.

Which meant that the twins needed to restart their training.

But the tension from previous conflicts had just started to fade, so the Sawada twins found themselves lounging in their backyard, watching Lambo toss grenades into the air. They would train, in about an hour or so, but now was time for family... and explosions. Lots of them.

“Tsuna-nii! Ie-nii!” Lambo screamed suddenly, breaking the tranquillity. "There are scary men around us!"

“Lambo no wake Ge-Ge!” I-Pin scolded. “But Lambo right! Scary men!”

“Lambo,” Tsuna sighed in exasperation.

“Well... I can't see anyone around.”

“Lambo,” Ietsuna crossed his arms. “I told you about the proper use of grenades, right?”

“Lambo-san was exploding those guys out of the goodness of his heart!” Lambo shouted back.

“Then, why are you using concussion grenades?”

“THAT’S what you’re worried about?!?” Tsuna yelled as Ietsuna picked Lambo up and pulled a dozen more tubular grenades from the afro.

“These two aren't the type to lie,” Ietsuna said calmly. He pulled the pins and tossed the primed grenades all around, filling the area with smoke – except for two spots next to Tsuna.

“Gēgē smart!” I-Pin praised as Ietsuna kicked both spots in the face, and they collapsed to reveal two men in green full-body suits.

“If you exist, you have an effect on air currents,” Ietsuna commented. A syringe that one of them was holding broke under his shoe. “Lambo, I-Pin, Tsuna, go in.”

Tsuna was used to obeying his brother without protest in these types of situations and wordlessly tried to corral the younger kids into the safety of the home. Lambo, however, was being recalcitrant.

“W- Why??” Lambo exclaimed. “Lambo-san helped take them down!”

In the middle of patting the two assassins down for anything dangerous, Ietsuna smiled. Ietsuna smiled. It was a mirror of his twin’s heart-breaking – and possibly nosebleed-inducing – smile, but twisted with his innate darkness. It was part fondness at Lambo, a bit of exasperation at the cow kid’s whining, some worry for Tsuna’s safety, but mostly, the smile was one of supreme anticipation and sadistic pleasure.

The effect was underscored by crushing one of the formerly invisible assassins under his Savate shoe in the vital regions. “Because good kids shouldn't do what I'm about to do. Got it?”

“What's going on? Lambo-kun? I-Pin-chan?” Nana called from within the house. One of the bodies stirred.

“Don't kill them,” Tsuna pleaded as he herded the children into the house. It was routine procedure for the twins: Tsuna got hurt, or found himself in danger, and Ietsuna would take disproportionate measures to protect his brother. Tsuna would plead for mercy, but unless he forcibly asserted himself, Ietsuna would tune out his brother, mind already whirling with ideas.

Someday, the minuscule amounts of guilt that Tsuna harboured due to his brother’s actions would catch up to him all at once, and Ietsuna would be unable to do anything to help him.

Ietsuna simply smirked back, watching Tsuna and the kids retreat to safety. Turning around to face his unfortunate victims, Ietsuna was a different boy. He gently released his foot from the vital regions he was crushing.

“Who sent you?”

“V- Verde-sama...” the man gibbered.

Before Ietsuna could get more than a name, he was interrupted by a rich, cultured baritone.

“Enough.”

Ietsuna pivoted slightly, tracing the origin of the voice to a small figure standing on the edge of the yard. It was a bespectacled baby with a shock of green hair and a large viridian pacifier wrapped in chains. Beside him, a caiman yawned, showing off its intimidating rows of sharp teeth. The stranger was also accompanied by a more familiar face.

Taking off his helmet, Skull leapt up in greeting, purple eyes curved with the force of his smile.

“Good morning, Skull-san,” Ietsuna dropped the two formerly invisible assassins in front of his guests. “You must be Verde.”

“Ietsuna-san!” Skull leapt up, and Ietsuna caught him with ease, putting the Arcobaleno on his shoulder.

“How unexpected,” Verde’s incongruously mature voice let out. “I had devised their invisibility suits to fail against anyone under a certain age. Yet, you rendered it irrelevant by exploiting the fact that, however invisible, one cannot change the truth of their existence. An exceedingly elegant solution. It’s a shame that you are Reborn's student-”

Wordlessly, Ietsuna turned to Skull. “I can hit him, right? I can, right?”

“No, Ietsuna-san!” Skull squeaked out in alarm, arms flailing as he tried to keep his perch on Ietsuna’s shoulder. “Verde-sempai, Reborn-sempai tried to kill him! He's not Reborn-sempai's student!”

Verde – and yes, this was Verde, as confirmed by Skull – simply blinked.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Verde-sensei,” Ietsuna politely stated. “I would invite you for tea, but you don't look like the type to observe social niceties.”

“How very astute of you,” Verde crisply retorted. “I came all the way here because this idiot said that you had a way to break this curse. I see that this idiot can't be-”

Ietsuna moved faster than either Arcobaleno could track, arms turning deadly cold. His inverted flames made contact with Verde’s skin, rapidly spreading around the small body to form a cocoon of ice.

“I- Ietsuna-san!” Skull screamed when the Verde-sicle was dropped onto him.

“This type of guy, talking gets us nowhere. It's best to just show him what I can do and discuss the specifics afterwards,” Ietsuna responded dismissively. Already the ice was beginning to crack and flake, and the crocodile that had been unfortunately caught in the attack began struggling. “Oh, sorry, Mr Caiman.”

“H- How did you know Keiman's name?” Skull asked, completely astonished, as if accurately guessing the name of an animal was a greater feat than temporarily return the Arcobaleno to their un-cursed state. “H- Have you met Verde-sempai's alligator before?!”

“I thought he was a caiman,”4 Ietsuna frowned at the crocodile. “So he's an alligator... he really doesn't look like one, does he?”

“I- I see...”

“By the way, Skull-san, why were assassins sent to my house?” Ietsuna's smile unfurled, and made the Arcobaleno cringe again. “Or do you not know anything?”

“I- I didn't know, sorry!”

“That’s alright, then,” Ietsuna’s death glare lessened a bit in intensity, only to surge back when the ice broken completely, bathing the yard in blinding green light. “How do you feel, Verde-san?”

“I don't know whether to praise you or kick Skull,” Verde groaned, adjusting his currently adult-sized glasses, struggling out of the cocoon of solid ice. “Perhaps this computer network theory Skull was babbling about has more merit than I originally judged.”

“I have to go shower and then entertain Reborn and the others,” Ietsuna warned. Ietsuna objected. “Reborn doesn’t know anything about this, and I’d prefer for it to stay that way.”

“But wouldn't Reborn support this?” Verde pointed out logically. After Verde himself, Reborn had been hit the hardest by the curse, and had railed hopelessly against this weak form.

“Probably. But I think he deserves to work for it. I’m not going to make it easy for him. In fact,” Ietsuna smiled again. “I’m going to blackmail every single piece of knowledge out of him and wring him dry first~”

“I- Ietsuna-san, that's going overboard!!!” Skull whimpered. “By the way, turn me back!”

“I see,” Verde smirked as Skull was frozen by Ietsuna's direct touch. “You hate Reborn too... normally I wouldn't care to involve myself into such plebeian affairs, but any chance to torment Reborn is rare enough. Fine, I'll agree to this... alliance. But, do not think this means that I am your ally. I don't associate with people of lower intelligence.”

“You... don't have any friends, do you?” Ietsuna stated bluntly, then rolled his eyes. “My name is Sawada Ietsuna, one of the twin heirs of the Vongola.”

“I am Verde, the Lightning Arcobaleno. That is all you need to know.”

“Heh,” Ietsuna agreed as Skull broke out of the small ice cocoon, already transformed. “By the way, can you analyse this ice? If this was created using the Zero Point Breakthrough, we can prove that Dying Will Flames are constantly diverted through the Pacifiers. Then it’ll be easier to establish if the curse is really like a giant server network.”

“Ah,” Verde gave a small smile. “I was thinking of the exact same thing. It looks like you have a modicum of intelligence with you.”

“I'm an artist,” Ietsuna replied. “Art, or science, aren't they both ways of observing this world and making sense of the chaos?”

“So... what do you think of science?”

“Science? It's... nature exposed to our method of questioning.” Ietsuna decided.

“And art?”

“Nature exposed to our copying.”

“You're not bad,” Verde smirked. Verde conceded. “But you are still a mere amoeba compared to me.”

“I can hit him, right? I can, right?” Ietsuna asked the now fully grown Skull.

“No, Ietsuna-san!” Skull cried out, and launched himself out of the cocoon of ice to bodily tackle Ietsuna before a hard fist made contact with an even harder head.

* * *

“Ah, Tsuna! Ietsuna!”

“Good afternoon, Yamamoto-kun,” Tsuna greeted for the two of them, since Ietsuna was still glancing at an orange cellphone.

“Yamamoto,” was his absent reply.

“I'm so glad to see you!” Yamamoto beamed, cradling a stack of wrapped _jūbako_. “I'm running a delivery right now for a break. And you guys?”

“We just left the hospital,” Tsuna answered. “A... relative of ours was there.”

“Oh? You should have stopped by my old man's place first!” Yamamoto grinned.

“That's true,” Tsuna nodded, before he stopped. “Ah- um, er...”

“Ask him for his number, idiot,” Ietsuna sighed, holding up the phone. “Yamamoto, because Tsuna keeps getting into danger without us, I've bought a phone for him. Put in your number.”

“I- Ie!” Tsuna stuttered. “Y- You didn't have to- and the phone plan-”

“Don't worry,” Ietsuna drawled. “I used Iemitsu's card to pay for your _unlimited, very expensive_ plan.”

“That doesn't make me feel better – wait, yes it does,” Tsuna said thoughtfully. “Okay, Yamamoto-kun, please put your phone number into my cell phone!”

“Haha!” Yamamoto grinned as he typed in his contact details. “OK! Man, a cellphone must be handy...”

Yamamoto nodded after a while, handing back the phone to Tsuna. “Gokudera has a cellphone number too, right?”

“I've already keyed in his details,” Ietsuna dismissed. “Mine, and the house phone, and the Disciplinary Committee's details. I'm obviously number one on speed-dial.”

“I don't even need a cellphone, Ie,” Tsuna complained.

“Yes, that's why a Gala-phone is enough for you,” Ietsuna pointed out5. “But, this phone has GPS. So you can't lose it, or forget to charge it, or- well, it won't stop anyone, but if anyone tries anything with me or vice versa... we can reach each other immediately.”

“...oh,” Tsuna caught on. “Of course! And Yamamoto too, right?”

“Yeah,” Yamamoto smiled. “Ne, Tsuna... do you remember when I met you guys? I'm bad at school, and baseball is my life... I was at rock bottom. I asked you guys...”

“ _Sure! Ie can do a magical spell!”_ Tsuna recalled the old words that must have enchanted Yamamoto.

“But I was surprised!” Yamamoto grinned. “I didn't expect Ietsuna to paint my nails in the school colours! You guys could open up a nail salon together!”

“Eheheh...” Tsuna blushed.

“But it took the whole day, and I had to skip practice because the Disciplinary Committee was excavating for something, and several reasons piled up to replace all the bats,” Yamamoto reflected. “I really didn't know what was up, but my batting average was going up again! I was doing really well, and I didn't even know it.”

The twins exchanged looks.

“The nail polish might not really be a magical spell to recover the body or whatever,” Yamamoto nodded, now completely serious, “but... you guys were there for the worst part of my life, and you guys left quietly.”

“Well,” Ietsuna shrugged. “I just said that if you continued, you'd strain your arm even more while using heavier bats, and then Tsuna said we should intervene. And, why the hell were you surprised, Yamamoto?! I'm an artist!”

“Ie, enough.” Tsuna was always the more emotionally adept twin. “Yamamoto-kun, we didn't really... do anything... the bats were due for replacement and Ie dug up some extra money anyway... but thank you for your gratitude. It's just our jobs in the Disciplinary Committee-”

“So! I don't want to be left behind.” Yamamoto declared. “In school, your birthdays, even this Mafia game-”

 _He still thinks this is a game?!!!_ “Uhm, Yamamoto-”

“-I will protect you this time, Tsuna!” Yamamoto beamed, as if he were the valiant knight in shining armor and Tsuna was the damsel in distress, whether or not he was wearing a dress.

“Uh... thanks...?”

“Tsuna, we gotta go,” Ietsuna tapped his watch.

“Ah! Sorry, Yamamoto-”

“Ah! I gotta deliver this sushi!”

“You idiot!” Ietsuna's eyes narrowed. “Yamamoto, you'd better win the next time you meet that long-haired Yankee! Or else...”

“Or else what?” Yamamoto asked.

“Or else I'll tell Hibari that before your manicure- I mean, hand maintenance last year, Tsuna was massaging lotion into your hands and you had this stupid expression on your face-”

“I did not!” Yamamoto protested immediately, then blinked. “Uh...”

“Stupid expression?” Tsuna blinked. “Er-”

“It's to do with that missing cushion that we didn't replace until autumn,” Ietsuna reminded him.

“Eh? Yamamoto, you stole from the Disciplinary Committee-?”

“It was a bet!” Yamamoto retorted, running after the twins, who had already began jogging, lest they arrive late.

“Liar!” Ietsuna yelled back. “By the way, why are you running after us?!”

* * *

“Ah, such good timing. Takeshi, was it? You came here with Tsu-chan and Na-chan?”

“Ah, bird-baasan!” Yamamoto greeted. “Old Man said that this is on your tab, so it's all covered. You know the twins?”

“Na-chan is my student,” Alouette nodded, having been waiting for them at the base of Death Mountain. In her hand was a copy of the _Weekly Shōnen Jump_. “Tsu-chan will be my grandson-in-law.”

Suddenly, Yamamoto's grin became slightly fixed. “E- Eh?”

“Nothing's fixed yet, alas,” Alouette sniffed, as if she could single-handedly convince the Japanese government to legalize same-sex marriage in order to make this wish of hers, one that had started as a joke and cascaded into a long-term goal, come true, “but I call dibs!”

“Eh? Why?”

“But Tsu-chan has a pretty face and a kind heart, he can tolerate my grandson for over two hours at a time, and he looks like he’d be great in b-”

“AHAHAHA, Alouette-san, that’s enough!” Tsuna cut in nervously.

“By the way, Maître,” Ietsuna's veins popped on his temple. “Why are you carrying a _Jump_ with you? Why did you order sushi take-out at a mountain? Are you conducting _momijigari_?” 6

Alouette's hand whacked down, and Ietsuna became very acquainted with a familiar flaming-headed protagonist of another _shōnen_ manga running on _Jump_ . Since _Jump_ was also the size of a phone book – consistently topping out at over five hundred pages in a weekly edition – Ietsuna was faced with what amounted to a reasonably large block of soft wood on his head.

“Ie!” Tsuna lamented. “Alouette-san, hitting people with Jump is too violent! Especially with people of your clan!”

“No, I just thought this guy was too angry,” Alouette pointed to the cover.

“Liar!” Ietsuna accused.

“B- But, I'm surprised,” Tsuna flailed to continue the conversation. “I didn't expect Alouette-san to like _shōnen_ manga...”

“I got it for _Gintama_ at first,” Alouette confessed. “But _D. Gray-man_ looks good too... and there's a manga about a no-good boy. Well, he'll grow into a cute lad. I prefer good-looking ones.”

“Oh no,” Ietsuna's face turned to one of horror. “Bishōnen Jump Syndrome is here!”

“Hey, I’m going to supervising little baby Reborn-chan when he trains you guys today. Hey, footstool, no moving!”

Alouette’s harsh command brought to the attention of the twins what exactly her footstool was made of.

Alouette was lounging on the sidelines like a queen, or better yet, a battlefield general who had succeeded in destroying the enemy and was now indulging in her spoils of war on a foldable chair. Her legs were stretched out to rest on an uneven surface that kept twitching, and she would kick at it every now and then in warning. Iemitsu was not a happy man, as he was reduced to a human footstool by a scary and powerful old woman. But even idiots can learn lessons, and Vongola’s chief external advisor – “Not for long,” Timoteo had warned – had one large bruise that covered the span of his back and a closed mouth to prove it.

“Do your best, Tsu-chan~!”

“Thou hast a formidable ally on thy side, Sawada-dono,” Basil admitted, standing opposite Tsuna. “To use my Master as a footstool... what manner of monster the Mauviette must be.”

“Tsuna!” Iemitsu gasped out suddenly. “Help me!”

Tsuna froze. His eyes flickered between the kneeling man and the baby hitman standing a cautious distance away from the twins, and his face hardened as if his resolve had become certain.

“Grow up.” Tsuna said softly, before turning his back to the man.

In front of him, Reborn stood, holding up a gun pointed at Tsuna’s head.

Reborn’s grip and aim were steady, but his eyes were a torrent of emotion. Tsuna's words of a few hours before reverberating in his head:

“ _I... I don't care about the Vongola. I care about my friends, and my brother Ie, whom you've dragged down into this._

“ _So I’ll give you a single warning: if you make one move on any of them, if you target my brother or decide to kill Yamamoto or ever hurt any of the others, I will live only to make sure you live to regret it._

“ _I will become Vongola Decimo, since it seems to be the only way to protect everyone I care about. Then... I will destroy the Vongola even if I have to die!”_

Tsuna had burned with determination and resolve, and unfortunately for Reborn, Primo’s legendary Dying Will had turned against him.

“ _I know. And I- I apologise.”_

“ _For what? For trying to kill my twin brother? For trying to tear my family apart?”_

“ _All-all of it.”_

“… _thank you. I accept your apology, even if I know you don’t mean a single word of it.”_

“Don’t dodge, Tsuna!” Ie called out playfully beside Alouette. “Or I’ll tell Hibari.”

The Dying Will Bullet exploded out of the chamber and Tsuna stood, unflinching, eyes never leaving Reborn’s. Tsuna's head snapped and lolled back. On the sidelines, Ietsuna gave a full-body shudder, and Reborn caught the movement from the corner of his eye, already moving towards his former target without even realizing it. Only Alouette’s pointed presence and the need to teach Tsuna kept Reborn from making the easiest shot in the world.

Instead, Reborn turned his body back and watched in fascination as orange-gold flames crawled their way sinuously around Tsuna’s body. The atmosphere suddenly felt heavy and primed, and Reborn suddenly and instinctively knew that Tsuna in Dying Will – no, Hyper Dying Will – mode would be quite the predator to contend with.

Tsuna straightened, his narrowed eyes gold. Basil swallowed two pills, the blue Flame bursting out onto his forehead at the same time he brandished his edged weapon. “Sawada-dono, I'm- what are you doing?”

Like a lion scenting weak prey, Tsuna slowly straightened. His unnerving golden eyes narrowed onto Basil’s form as he raised his gloved hands, forming orange Flames over his palms. Reborn blinked at the unexpected move, but when those orange spheres of flame turned into blinding stars once more, dread and apprehension made themselves known.

Iemitsu blinked, moving from his position towards Reborn and earning himself a kick. “What-”

Reborn simply pulled Iemitsu down, sheltering them behind a rock. Alouette just smirked and watched.

The stars converged, turning into a single ball. A simple tilt of his head launched it towards Basil’s frozen figure. Ietsuna immediately leapt into action, tackling Basil out of the way moments before the Flames hit the ground under Basil’s feet.

Everything burned into black ash, the blue sky now obscured by the heavy smoke rising. The conflagration burned, charring the ground where it touched and leaping into the skies.

“Oi, Tsuna,” Ietsuna drawled within the explosion. “That was a bit overpowered, wasn’t it? I thought you were trying to kill Iemitsu, not Basil.”

“Hey-” Iemitsu’s indignant voice was harshly silenced by Reborn’s tiny foot digging into the base of his neck.

“W- What is that?” Basil staggered back away from the devastation. “What sort of Dying Will- Ah, erm, you have my thanks, Ietsuna-dono. Um, you can put me down now?”

Ietsuna had caught Basil’s fall, scooping him up bridal-style, and set the boy gently on his feet.

“That wasn’t meant for you,” Ietsuna said to Basil. “But, Tsuna’s ready now, so-”

“What-” Basil's eyes widened as Ietsuna caught a flaming fist, the orange enveloped in frost before Tsuna drew back, gold eyes narrowed and warming.

Basil dodged when Tsuna launched himself towards his brother, only to be parried by bare fists that froze the orange flames. Tsuna drew back, gold eyes narrowed and calculating. Chips of ice fell off his fists, thudding upon the charred ground.

“Risky move, brother,” Ietsuna commented, amber eyes unflinchingly staring back at Tsuna. “But you’re improving.”

“...thank you,” Tsuna spoke tonelessly.

“No problem. Try not to kill Basil again, or we'll need to punch the old man as training, and Basil doesn't deserve that.”

Ietsuna moved out of the way, and watched as the pair exchanged fistfuls of flames. Basil’s Rain Flames were doing their work, calming the suppressed volcano of rage that was Tsuna unleashed and unbound.

“W- What was that?” Iemitsu gaped, discarding the dimwitted act for pure shock as he stared at the sky. “That’s a mushroom cloud!”

“I told the Ninth what happened when Kokuyo burned,” Reborn said in annoyance. “Didn't you read the report?”

“You said that he burned down a building! Not that he created an explosion out of thin air on par with a supernova!” Iemitsu shrilled. “Dying Will Flames are powerful, but they’re not comparable to forces of nature! This- this- it’s not human! How...?!”

“It's obvious,” Reborn turned towards Alouette. “You must have realised it, Mauviette.”

Alouette smirked. However, at that moment, another explosion occurred that caused the adults to look.

Basil was good. For his youth, he had been trained by the best in CEDEF, personally covered by the Vongola's Young Lion. His skill was honed from dedicated practice and direction.

Tsuna... Tsuna, while in Namimori's Disciplinary Committee, was not one of its best fighters. While proficient in dodging, Tsuna had never truly needed to fight for his life, as someone hovering between civilian and the local law enforcement.

Tsuna had very little practice compared to Basil, or combat experience, or even focused power. And yet... what Tsuna had in spades, and Basil lacked... what even Ietsuna lacked...

“He has quite a bit of spatial awareness,” Alouette commented. “You taught him, Na-chan?”

“Yeah,” Ietsuna drawled fondly. “I taught Tsuna the resolve to seek help. And, since we were on footwork training then, I taught him a few steps. He's good enough a _traceur_.”

“Parkour?” Reborn spoke.

“To dodge. Tsuna is good enough to dodge your grandson in a small, enclosed space and get out using all obstacles. That requires precision that's probably even better than mine.”

Yes, Tsuna rained down precise blows, unrelenting in speed or power. He might not have Basil's stamina, but Basil was already panting from two punches into sensitive parts of his ribs, and Tsuna had yet to get hit. Basil's Ran Flames lashed out, light blue clashing with orange to fan back to its cringing caster.

“Oh no!”

Tsuna's gloved fingers fanned out. By the sidelines, Ietsuna shuddered, a bead of inky black trailing across his brow before it faded.

Iemitsu cried out, glancing between the two, but the blue and orange had retreated. A morbidly beautiful fractal of eternal ice crashed into the ground where the Flames had been. Once again, Iemitsu had the unnerving thought that maybe, neither of his boys were truly human. People had said that Giotto, the founder of Vongola, had been blessed by the Palici before7. Looking at Tsuna's form surrounded in orange sparks, and Ietsuna surrounded by vaporous night, it sure seemed like the pair had been divinely gifted.

“Did you know?” Alouette nonchalantly clicked her tongue. “The Dioscuri twins were the sons of the sky god, Zeus.”

“What was that attack just now?” Basil panted out, already half in awe at the power one of the twins showcased.

“Compression of energy into a single target,” Tsuna's monotone echoed across the mountain as he dived for Basil's legs, the boy only just barely leaping up in time to receive a blast, thankfully less intense than the fallen stars, into a tree. “All heat energy spread from that point.”

Ietsuna exhaled gently as the black flame faded. “What was that...?”

“ _Alouette, gentille alouette-_ ” Iemitsu got hit with the _Jump_. “Ow!”

“Only I can sing that,” Alouette warned, casting an eye towards Ietsuna, who was slumped by the sidelines, still watching Tsuna and Basil debate and talk.

“Old bird, why did you help him steal my signature for the adoption?” Iemitsu asked suddenly.

He received the _Jump_ to his head again for the question. “I thought Timoteo was exaggerating when he spoke about the size of your ego, but now I see the truth,” Alouette absently commented. Iemitsu received yet another smack on the head. “Don't ask questions to which you already know the answer.”

“It’s going to be hard for Tsuna,” Iemitsu protested. “He’s a civilian, born and raised. He lacks the ruthlessness and manly aura that makes a good boss-”

“ _You_ threw him into this mess,” Alouette commented. “I offer to adopt Tsu-chan out of the goodness of my heart to spare him, but you kicked up a huge fuss and he refused. Make up your mind, boy! Either Tsu-chan is fit to be Decimo or he’s not. That’s all there is to it.”

“Adopt?!?” Iemitsu repeated incredulously. “You just want a cute grandson who cooks for you! Ha, I was right! You want an indentured servant! Well, what kind of father would I be to do that to my son?”

“Indeed,” Alouette smirked. “What kind of father would you be to try to assassinate one son and sacrifice the other to the Mafia, just so your precious Vongola will survive another generation? Have you thought about what would happen afterwards? Tsu-chan probably isn’t going to have any biological children any time soon, and good luck with finding a willing wife for Na-chan! Vongola’s blood has run its course and only idiots like you are unwilling to accept it.”

But she forgot that she was talking to an idiot blockhead who only listened to what he wanted and discarded the rest.

“Is an old hag like you even supposed to-” Iemitsu choked as Alouette used the Savate codified groin attack on him.

“I'm still in my young sixties, idiot cub,” Alouette warned, now flipping through her _Jump_ again since Iemitsu was in a heap on the ground. “And, about my plans for your cute, cute son... heheheh-”

“AHH! The Mauviette is going to eat the Vongola heir!” Iemitsu screamed towards Reborn.

Alouette lifted her foot to kick him, but her cellphone vibrated. “Huh, I can still get reception... _oh_. Na-chan, did you buy Tsu-chan a phone?”

“Er, yes,” Ietsuna nodded, watching his brother execute a suplex that kicked up a few dust clouds, only for Basil to kick his way out. “Why?”

“Did you send a picture through it to Kyoya?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Alouette lifted her phone to reveal Tsuna in a black-and-white frilly maid outfit, hands out in a thumbs-and-pointers-together gesture. Her grey eyes had somehow turned to stars. “Good job. But... why did you send it to so many people too?”

“Oops... wrong test picture...”

Below the hill, Shamal was praying to the god of the stone boulders by slamming his head into it repeatedly. “How-” _slam_ “-is-” _slam_ “-a boy-” _slam_ “-prettier-” _slam_ “-than a _girl_?!?”

Gokudera would have stopped him, but the multimedia message that was the cause of the pair's sudden insanity was still before him. Gokudera's pale skin coloured, and red dripped down his nose. “Tenth...”

In Vendicare, the home of the Vindice, the guards stared. Their prisoner was giggling in his water-filled tank. Blood was spewing from his nose and staining the water a faint reddish-brown.

“Nosebleed...?” one of the faceless guards commented.

“He looks happy...” another dismissed. “Pervert.”

In Namimori, Chrome held onto her nose to stem the blood. Boss was very c-cute...

Said boss limped to the side, the two boys staggering over. “I think... this could work,” Tsuna mumbled.

“What are thoust beholding-” Basil turned a fiery red upon laying eyes on the picture of Tsuna in a frilly maid outfit. “M- Madame!”

“Kyoya sent a message to do a good job, Tsu-chan,” Alouette told him.

“Oh?” Tsuna brightened. “Hibari-san must be training really hard with Dino-sempai now. He's so cool, and kind when he wants to. He's the best chairperson in Namimori!”

Somewhere in Japan, Hibari smirked as Dino fainted, prompting Romano to wail about his Boss getting back together. His expression might be considered fond, if viewed through a kaleidoscope, but mostly it just looked like the skylark had his sights locked... while also holding onto a bloody nose.

 _From: Hibari Kyoya (c.c.)_  
_To: Sawada Tsunayoshi_  
_Time: 05;43 PM, 17 Oct 2005_

_Why did you send it to so many people? Little animal, I will bite you to death if you do not protect the peace of Namimori while I am gone._

From: [http://static.zerochan.net/Katekyo.Hitman.REBORN%21.full.280882.jpg ](http://static.zerochan.net/Katekyo.Hitman.REBORN!.full.280882.jpg)

* * *

“Mammon sent a message that the Varia are coming back,” Ietsuna announced into the gloom of Verde’s temporary laboratory that had been built and completed in impossibly fast speeds. Somehow all of this and been accomplished after training, after he had dropped Tsuna back at the house, and set Lambo and I-Pin to scribble with his old oil pastels before coming out here. The sun was setting; orange sunlight spilled in through blinders stationed in the four walls of the warehouse apartment, most of the furniture and notes and apparatus scattered at child height or on the floor.

“How inconvenient,” Verde flippantly retorted as he filled the apparatus with coolant, aiming a CO2 laser towards a piece of metal. By the side, the remnants of the two cocoons stood, one of them with an ice pick jabbed into them.

All three people present – with an octopus and an alligator – flipped down safety goggles before Verde pushed two buttons. A beam of light bathed the piece. It glowed red before a hole was punched through.

“This is the control used,” Verde stopped the experiment and swapped out the metal carefully with tongs, for a piece of eternal ice the size of a human thumbnail. “Now observe.”

The experiment was repeated. The ice resisted, turning black for that brief moment. The laser was switched off. The ice remained as pristine as it had been.

“Interesting,” Verde pronounced, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “Now, this-”

An abrupt pause, and Verde blinked as he turned back into a baby. “What the?”

“M- Me too!” Skull exclaimed, wiggling his now-small hands.

“But, we have a frame of time,” Ietsuna reasoned. “Skull-san, when I turned Mammon and you back, it was sunrise. It's sunset now. And the first time in Mafia Land, you said that you turned back at sunrise too!”

“Hmm... if that is true, then we need to repeat the experiment right now, bo- young Vongola,” Verde noted.

“I'm not Vongola,” Ietsuna denied. “That's my twin, much as I dislike it. Just Ietsuna is fine, Verde-sensei.”

“Sensei?” Verde cocked his head.

“Skull-san is probably not the combat type, and Mammon-san is busy distracting the Varia, so you're my main patron for safety,” Ietsuna reasoned. “Am I wrong?”

“Don't be an idiot,” Verde snapped. “When you compare the fighting power of a warrior and a scientist, even a child knows which is stronger.”

“Socrates and Plato were wrestlers and soldiers,” Ietsuna pointed out. “You're one of the World's Strongest Seven, too.”

“Hmm,” Verde hummed. “Does Reborn know where you are?”

“I told Jii-san and my brother everything,” Ietsuna replied. “Reborn is currently sticking to Tsuna like glue, and Dad's been told to take Kaa-san for a... small honeymoon. Tsuna's probably trying to manage everyone at dinner now.”

“Ietsuna-san!” Skull whined.

“Yes, yes.”

Verde watched as ice covered the Arcobaleno again. “Why are you helping us?”

“I didn't want to become part of the Mafia in the first place,” Ietsuna nodded as Skull broke out of the ice, an adult once more. “And... I don't feel much of an attachment to this world. This world is cold, heartless, and indifferent, much like I find myself. It's the same for you guys too, right?”

“That's the first time anyone's said something so nice to me!” Skull burst into tears.

“How naïve,” Verde muttered seconds before been unceremoniously frozen once more.

“-.-* I can hit him, right? I can, right?”

“Ietsuna-san!” Skull was putting his new size to good use by preventing the Lightning Arcobaleno from being murdered.

“Anyway,” Ietsuna spoke once Verde had also been frozen and broken out, carrying the Pacifier in his hand. “How the hell did you guys get cursed?”

“It was the man with the iron hat...” Verde began reluctantly. It was a tale that he’d never told in its complete form.

“...so,” Ietsuna finished after a long explanation, “A mysterious guy with an iron hat lured you to a place, where there was a light, and then you guys were turned into this. And you haven't aged. At all.”

“We're walking out of time, yes,” Verde confirmed. “So we cannot age.”

“Talk about a chicken and egg problem,” Ietsuna sighed. “But, the solution here lies in the nature of that mysterious light, and the Zero Point Breakthrough. The Tri-Ni-Sette is, a device that guides the growth and development of life on Earth, while maintaining a balance of its life force. In short, it regulates all life, like a giant computer.”

“If the Mare and the Vongola Rings are defined as stationary terminals that dictate one axiom of the world, and we define those two sets as separate clients, the Arcobaleno must be the servers running on dedicated hardware,” Ietsuna continued. “As the World's Strongest Seven in several different fields, few could beat you individually or in a group. You can cover each other’s weaknesses. Of course, that would mean that those Pacifiers are running their own algorithms to maintain the Tri-Ni-Sette, and power in the form of Dying Will Flames are taken from the hosts. For some reason, you guys are turned into babies for some reason. Following this model, freezing via the Zero Point Breakthrough stops the processing and returns the Dying Will Flames to their original owner, which creates a temporary break.”

”But that doesn't explain how the Pacifiers glow when we're next to each other,” Verde pointed out.

“It's a self-defence mechanism,” Ietsuna replied. “Within the Arcobaleno, there are surely people who hate and want to kill each other too. Since the Arcobaleno are also amongst the world's strongest, they could destroy the Pacifiers. It's presumably not in the interest of the world to do so.”

“That makes sense,” Verde nodded. “We've all mostly kept our distances... from each other.”

“Some more than most,” Skull added. “It was really hard finding you, Verde!”

“Hmph,” Verde dismissed. “Luck really favours the idiots.”

“O- Oi!”

“No,” Ietsuna disagreed. “Fortune favours the bold. took on the risk of finding me, even knowing that it was probably I would kill him, or refuse to help. But he found me anyway. That’s the kind of person that makes this world bearable. I don't hate those types of people.”

“Ietsuna-san~!”

“My ears are ringing, shut up.”

“Fortune, is it?” A trace of distaste coloured his tone. “She believed in fate, too. That's why she betrayed us.”

“Who?”

“Luce. Our leader,” Verde sighed in both regret and nostalgia. “She could see glimpses of the future, but she never told us about her visions. Just that they were sad. She knew our fate and she did nothing to stop it.”

“...I don't know,” Ietsuna thoughtfully considered it. “The seven of you were gathered together and given the title of the Strongest of your generation. You prided yourself on your abilities, and in doing so, became easy targets for the man in the iron hat. You could say that it wasn’t fate, but pride, that resulted in your curse. You were all so confident and so powerful, that anything that would confirm that would be taken at face value. That man, he played you like violins.”

Ietsuna smiled. “Being so powerful and yet so obligated... So this is how Hibari feels when he just wants to drift all over the place.”

“You do know that I'm just using you, right?” Verde asked.

“We're just using each other, yes,” Ietsuna agreed. “But that also means that, until this is done, we won't betray each other, right? This is mutual trust. Or rather, mutually assured destruction.”

“What a strange boy...” Verde murmured to himself, as the corners of his mouth turned up. “Until the end of this partnership, then.”

“Yes, Verde-sensei.”

* * *

There was a storm a week later, on the night the Varia came to Namimori. The clouds themselves heralded the setting of the sun, streaks of orangey red painting Namimori in anticipation of the yet to come. Xanxus himself led the Varia onto the campus of Namimori Middle School, but his confident stride faltered at the scene before him.

“Xanxus,” Timoteo evenly greeted them from his wheelchair, held by a girl in shirt and pleated skirt.

“Old man...” the Varia boss snarled back.

“My thanks for rescuing my son, Squalo,” Timoteo said sincerely.

“VOOOOOOII! What are you talking about?” Squalo spluttered.

Timoteo ignored him, turning back to his son. “Xanxus, of all my boys, you were always the most determined.”

“Shut up, you shitty old man!” Xanxus retorted. “Don’t you dare call me that! I will be Decimo!”

“No, you were my son from the moment I laid eyes on you,” Timoteo refuted. “Blood shouldn’t matter, and for the most part it doesn’t. But in this case, well, this is beyond anything we know.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Xanxus growled, pulling out his guns. “No more talking. Will you fight me?”

“I’m an old man,” Timoteo said wearily. “This is for the young to fight now

“Ushishishi,” Belphegor giggled. “So, who will fight for the Ninth?”

“I'll leave my son in your care,” Timoteo spoke to his orderly.

“Yes, Jii-san.”

Xanxus took a closer look at the girl and found that he recognized her. He’d recognize those legs anywhere, that slim build, the fluffy brown hair… “You're... that girl!”

“You're... that scary man at the florist!” The brown-haired individual pointed back.

“Cute...~” Lussuria mused. And then his glasses broke when his eyeballs popped out. “Boss! That's not a girl! That's a BOY!”

…

…

…

“...erm, yes, I'm a boy...” Tsuna flailed. “I just... like it. It gives me confidence! What's wrong with that?!”

“Oh, he's so cute,” Lussuria cooed.

Belphegor started laughing maniacally, dragging Mammon down with him. “OH THAT'S RICH!!!!”

“VOI! It's not funny!” Squalo yelled at their Storm. “The idea that... the shitty Boss got fooled...”

“Boss!” Levi gamely tried to shake their Boss, who seemed to have turned into stone.

“That boy nearly fooled me,” Mammon commented. _So that's the twin, Sawada Tsunayoshi... they're identical twins, but this guy is too damn fluffy!_

“Xanxus?” Timoteo blinked. “Are you alright? Tsunayoshi-kun, I apologise. My son has always had difficulty in pursuing romantic relationships, but it seems like the Zero Point Breakthrough has made his awareness even worse. Why, I remember when Xanxus had a crush on this-”

“SHUT UP!” Xanxus screamed, his face red from embarrassment and literally burning an orangey-red that lit the compound of the school. “Don’t mock me in front of the girl of my dreams!“

“WHAT?! I'm a boy!” Tsuna shrieked as Timoteo turned blue with shock. At the edges of Namimori, Iemitsu choked, and Basil had to physically restrain the man from jumping in to slaughter Xanxus right there and then.

“Ah, he's back to normal-” Squalo cut off as the Varia Boss seemed imminent to explode with the bright Flames of Wrath. “Boss?”

“You-” Xanxus started, moving closer to a nervous Tsuna. “You really aren’t a girl?”

“Um, no?” Tsuna paused.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Can I check?”

“NO!!!”

Timoteo face-palmed in second-hand embarrassment.

“VOOOII!” Squalo interrupted. “FOCUS, YOU IDIOT BOSS!”

“I AM!” Xanxus roared. “I AM FOCUSED, SHARK TRASH! Where was I now?”

“Stupid boss! You have the worst timing!” Squalo yelled back. “Just beat him up and take him back to headquarters with us!”

Xanxus blinked. “Right,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll beat her-him up and become Decimo! THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU'RE IN THE WAY, RUNT! GET THEE TO A NUNNERY!”

“...eh?” Tsuna faintly eeped.

Timoteo really wished that he wasn’t a first-hand eye-witness to Xanxus’ horrible attempts at flirting.

“Boss...?” Levi's hands were outstretched, plaintive in their apparent desire to comfort the Boss's sudden-onset insanity.

“BURN!” Xanxus charged, guns akimbo to shoot at Tsuna.

The young to-be Boss hollered, but still managed to push Timoteo to the sidelines before a Flame caught on his forehead. Tsuna waltzed away, and certain Varia members ignored the pleated skirt waving at them from its position over certain slim hips since they were also ambushed by dynamite, swords, bare fists and a trishula, and a palette knife.

Ietsuna managed to get a kick in Xanxus' general direction, running away as Tsuna prepared to attack again, two spheres of burning orange in his hands-

-and then, the sky crumbled and the stars fell down with the lightning.

* * *

_**1 Spaghetti with clams, an Italian dish**_

 

2 _**Frog legs, a French dish**_

_**3 Spaghetti with clams in tomato sauce** _

_**4 A caiman is an alligatorid crocodilian belonging to the subfamily Caimaninae, one of two primary lineages within Alligatoridae, the other being alligators.** _

_**5 The wide variety of features in cellphones, many original to or limited to Japan, lead to the term "Galápagos syndrome", as these resulting phones were dominant in the island nation of Japan, but unsuccessful abroad. Gala-phone (** _ _**ガラケイ** _ _**gara-kei) refers to Japanese feature phones, by contrast with newer smart phones.** _

_**6 Momijigari (** _ _**紅葉狩** _ _**), from the Japanese momiji (** _ _**紅葉** _ _**), "red leaves" or "maple tree" and kari (** _ _**狩り** _ _**), "hunting", is the Japanese tradition of going to visit scenic areas where leaves have turned red in the autumn.** _

_**7 The Palici (Παλικοί in Greek), or Palaci, were a pair of indigenous Sicilian chthonic deities in Roman mythology, and to a lesser extent in Greek mythology. They are mentioned in Ovid V, 406, and in Virgil IX, 585. Their cult centred on three small lakes that emitted sulphurous vapours in the Palagonia plain, and as a result these twin brothers were associated with geysers and the underworld. There was also a shrine to the Palaci in Palacia, where people could subject themselves or others to tests of reliability through divine judgement; passing meant that an oath could be trusted. The mythological lineage of the Palici is uncertain; one legend made the Palici the sons of Zeus, or possibly Hephaestus, by Aetna or Thalia, but another claimed that the Palici were the sons of the Sicilian deity Adranus.** _


	22. Folio 21: Trittico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we're back!

“Damn the shitty weather!” Gokudera screamed. It was partially ironic, since Gokudera was supposed to be the surging storm at the centre of every fight. However, the rain did bring one particular dilemma – the fuses used by Dunamis kept getting put out in the rain. “Dammit!”

“Extremely boxing in the rain!” At least one person was having fun...

“Oh~! This feeling of wetness and cold is my ideal!~ I'm right here, take this!” … and someone _else_ was having fun too.

Gokudera dodged the knives being tossed at him.

“Ushishishi, why do I have to be paired with Levi?” The blond man with the tiara complained, still grinning madly. As if it didn't matter that Gokudera was supposed to take him down with the umbrella-wielding goat.

“Bwahahaha, Idiot-dera is being ignored!” Lambo laughed, or he would have if he wasn't fleeing from the large and heavyset Levi intent on skewering him. “Gyupaa! Save me!”

“Idiot!” Gokudera snarled, flinging one of the rare lit dynamite sticks. It exploded close to the ground, creating a column of billowing smoke while Gokudera pulled more explosives. “Now it's- wait, idiot cow! Don't come near me!”

“ _Gyupaa_!”

“VOOII! This rain is getting to my boots!” The long-haired Yankee...

“Haha, it's not ideal weather for baseball either...” …and the baseball idiot, wonderful.

Having wheeled himself into the relative safety of the campus building, Timoteo just sighed and followed the wreckage towards the orange light. He passed through several corridors, towards the rain-soaked quadrangle where his son and his heirs duked it out, hesitating only as a stray shot made a crater near him. Grimly, the Ninth Boss of the Vongola watched, never taking his eyes away from the battle.

Watching, and hoping that things would be alright in the end.

* * *

“Where did that giant umbrella come from?” Hibari U commented beside her mother.

“Who knows,” Alouette nodded. “It was there when I woke up. My neck pillow was there when I woke up too. Come to think of it, things always appear when I need them the most. It's quite the mystery!”

“Is that so, Ma?” U replied non-committally to mask the thuds and the rustling leaves behind her. “Do you think it's Tsuna-kun? You did just leave the hospital, Ma.”

“That would be nice, but Tsu-chan has an alibi,” Alouette pouted. “I don't know how long more will my heart keep up. I want to see the wedding soon~”

“Ma, you saw my wedding.”

“Yes...” Alouette hummed. “I know you're safe, _chérie_. Kyoya is much more at risk than you are, from the fate of being alone.”

“At risk?”

“It is our commitment to discipline that defines us, so we cannot abandon it,” Alouette stated. “What happens... if we do? If there not a single goal or person throughout our whole life, U, that we would not commit ourselves to? Are there no boundaries that we would not cross; no laws we would not break; nothing that would stop us from throwing everything aside for?”

“It sounds like a promising proposition,” U agreed. “There is not a lot of space. Everything is so crowded. Just the other day, I threw a man down a building for crowding.”

Alouette clicked her tongue. “Such a mess. Did he deserve it?”

“Part of a human trafficking cabal. Still not an excuse for crowding.”

“I agree,” Alouette nodded, oblivious to the fighting going on in the storm behind her as a baby hitman with a red pacifier took out several Varia assassins – who were, it must be noted, fighting back with considerably less enthusiasm. “I am the last of a generation that has fought in war. These instincts that would not die... I comprehend them, as much as one skylark can understand another.”

The two women paused to glance as two figures rushed through the pouring rain, towards the school that was the epicentre of the terribly apt weather they were in.

“Was that Kyoya?” Alouette spoke over the pouring torrent.

“Yes, Ma.”

“Going to Tsu-chan?”

“It's either that or the battle, or because they are in his territory,” U guessed. “He will cut them to death.”

“Then that's alright,” Alouette relaxed, watching the storm rage. “No matter what happens, Tsu-chan will forgive him in the end. By the way... do you get the feeling that all the assassins are avoiding us? I wanted to cure my poor heart in battle.”

“How could they, Ma?” U commented as one assassin foamed in the mouth and fainted with a croak on the tree behind the giant umbrella marking their surveillance spot around Namimori. “It's not like they know that we're here.”

On the ground, a headset crackled. “ _Storm Squad's been taken out! Whatever it is, watch out! The_ _Mauviette_ _might be there!_ ”

* * *

Unlike the other Guardians, whose preference in battle leant towards the physical, the Mists faced each other in the sheltered gymnasium within Namimori Middle. Outside amidst the wind and rain, the gym windows had been covered in spots of spidery frost and charred black.

“I was paid only to deal with one,” Mammon opened banter.

“Yes,” Chrome agreed. “But you are not earning your pay at the present.”

“But what are you even fighting for?” Chrome frowned, but Mammon ploughed on, “Even if he manages to win by a miracle, Sawada Tsunayoshi could never lead the Vongola Family. That boy will never belong to the darkness. The Vongola would turn on him. The world of the Mafia would ruin him.”

“I...” Chrome paused, frowning as she retraced the words she was about to speak. “That’s true. Boss is... very kind. Very kind, very pretty... and very reluctant to fight people for his own sake. Boss is too kind. Yet... he stood up for me. Mukuro-sama heard from Alouette-baasan… Boss begged Alouette-san to give us her protection, to find a place for us to belong.”

Chrome nodded to herself, confident in her thoughts, if not her words. “You are all trying to kill Boss and Ietsuna-san. This is... not a fight for the Vongola. This is for them to live.”

“...then it can't be helped,” Mammon concluded their joint trains of thought.

“No. It cannot be helped.” Her single violet eye gazed at Mammon calmly, from the frog, to the shadows of Mammon's hood. There was certainty there; a certainty born of simply knowing. Of having a roof over her head and maybe not always being full, but certainly being fed. Having someone to talk to, and watching Ken argue with the autocratic Alouette. Chikusa dutifully tallying the books for Ciel Art Supplies and Mukuro-sama reading with an amused smile in the same room. Boss and his smiles and concern over her, was she eating enough, how was her day. Alouette facing the faceless enforcers of the Mafia world, and very calmly organising the details of Mukuro-sama's incarceration over tea with a baby in bandages. A sudden visit from Alouette-baasan's grandson where a fight broke out, and it ended with Alouette-baasan breaking her sticks over their heads again.

Chrome might not be sure which was more terrifying, between the Vindice or Alouette Lei, but she was very certain of one thing: that this was her place, and the Varia were threatening it.

“Too bad,” Mammon clicked her tongue. “I'll just have to teach you a lesson...”

Mammon attacked before the words had ended. Tentacles burst from the hood, wrapping around Chrome to lift her off of her feet. There was a gasp-

“Where are you looking?” Chrome stood behind Mammon, the trishula lifted in a practised, fluid motion as her other hand went to her eye-patch. _You're a girl, Chrome-chan... Well, your Mukuro-sama would love a powerful, devoted girl like you... but he'd love you with even more power._

“This is... my victory,” was Chrome's words as her eye-patch dropped. “Gandhari!” _1_

* * *

Out in the rain, Lambo was crying. “It's cold! I'm hungry! I wanna go home!”

“Idiots!” Gokudera's yell this time managed to boom impressively over the thunder. “We're supposed to take these guys down fast and help the Tenth! That includes you, idiot cow! You can do whatever you like tomorrow, but tonight you will _live_!”

Lightning was crackling in the air around him, the child hitman surrounded by Parabolas crackling with electricity.

“No one can escape the Levi Volta,” Levi sneered. “I will end this charade.”

Gokudera flung a few dynamite. Some were cut down, but one Parabola fell in a spectacular explosion. “Run, idiot cow.”

“A- Ahodera?” Lambo stared.

“If you died, I can't face the Tenth,” Gokudera swallowed. “I have a better chance of fighting them here. Go!”

 _One day, you will have to return to the Bovino and leave everyone behind,_ the loud Papa had said, offering the shiny Ring. Lambo wasn't stupid; it was a recruitment. _With the completed Ring, you can stay with everyone forever. It's going to be tough, though..._

“I will win, for Boss!”

“Stupid umbrella goat!” Lambo yelled, flinging a grenade at him. “Lambo-san will get the Ring and be with everyone forever! Now die!”

“Idiot cow!” Gokudera yelled, choking as a wire tied to a knife cut him under the chin.

The grenade exploded, shards tearing through one Parabola that was quickly matched with the child hitman's own weight. Lambo cheered, tearing out of the electric dome before the lightning struck. “Bleh! Lambo-san is too fast!”

“Shut up,” Gokudera snapped, pushing his opponent back with another stick of dynamite. “Listen, stupid- wait, why am I talking about plans to you?”

“Let's go, Idiot-dera!” Lambo pulled at his silver locks. “Let's find Tsuna-nii and Ie-nii!”

“I want to, but that bastard laid traps on it!” Gokudera pointed to Belphegor, armed to the teeth with knives. “We'll be sliced to ribbons!”

“Gyaa!” Lambo burst into tears. “I'm out of fragmentation grenades!”

“Idiot, do you want to blow me up as well?!” Gokudera exclaimed. “Our weapons aren't that effective in the rain!”

“Ushishishi,” Belphegor sang. “Two little peasants, caught in the prince's trap. You can't escape.”

“Gyupaa, the umbrella goat is coming!” Lambo shouted. “Hurry up!”

“Shut up, idiot!” Gokudera scolded. “Why the hell am I paired with you! At this rate, how am I supposed to face the Tenth?!”

“You dare name that boy as the Tenth?!” Levi shouted. “And against us, the Varia, you leave us to face children?!”

“Don't worry,” Belphegor giggled. “You'll face your end very quickly, and we'll take the Rings from your corpses.”

Levi drew one of the closed Parabolas, sparks flying from the tip. Several small knives lined up behind Belphegor.

Lambo screamed, pulling a giant purple bazooka from his... hair. The bazooka landed with a thud, and Lambo leapt into it, screaming before the trigger was pulled and the bazooka exploded.

Both attacks were fired, green sparking along the hail of blades as they were embedded into the ground. “It's over,” Belphegor satisfactorily dismissed.

“...well _,_ well,” a deep voice resounded lightly, trailing from a line of pink smoke emerging from within the explosion. Levi and Belphegor turned ninety degrees to face two forms; one of a winded Gokudera and the slim form of the fifteen-year-old Lambo with a cow-print shirt and one eye covered by straggly long bangs. The grown Lambo clicked his tongue, watching the rain overhead. “What are you doing, Gokudera-shi? This is terrible weather.”

“S- Stupid cow?!” Gokudera accused. “I don't want to hear that from you!”

“Another one?” Levi beckoned, the Parabolas reorienting themselves. “It won't make a difference.”

“It will,” the adult Lambo traced the horns on either side of his head with both hands. Overhead, thunder clapped, a ponderous sound like the wrath of the heavens. “You get one warning. Stand down.”

“Ushishishi,” Belphegor pulled three more knives. “You've got a big mouth, I'll give you that. I'll even give you a Glasgow smile with it.”

“By the way, have I introduced my horns?” Lambo continued, tracing the horns currently on his head out in a flat arc. “The left one is Europa, and the right one is Pasiphaë.”

“Who the hell cares?!” Gokudera raged. “Fight or get lost!”

Lambo waved aside Gokudera's yelling, rifling through his pockets. “Eh, where did I put it?”

“Big words!” Levi roared.

“Oi, idiot cow!” Gokudera yelled.

“Have you ever heard of the term 'railgun'?”

“Huh?”

“The idea behind it is the same as a linear motor train,” Belphegor commented. “Powerful electromagnets are used to fire a metal projectile.”

Lambo looked up from a book with a little nun on the cover. “Wow, almost word for word.”

“What are you reading at a time like this?!” Gokudera fretted as Lambo put the book away.

“Don't worry, Gokudera-shi,” Lambo shrugged, looking through his pockets again. “That person would definitely kill me if I lose.”

“I am Boss' Lightning Guardian!” Levi shouted. “I will make him Boss of the Vongola!”

“Like I care.” From his pocket, Lambo fished out a clunky-looking cowbell the size of his fingernail. “Oh, this is handy. And it won't open up copyright suits.”

“I don't know what the hell are you up to...” Belphegor trailed off as Lambo held up the cowbell.

On his head, the curved horns began sparking. “ _Thunder Set: Bo-ōpis_!”

Lightning cascaded down, washing over Lambo's form and sparking over the named horns, Europa and Pasiphaë. Green flame leapt up and out, sparks travelling the length of the horns to spark out at the end like St Elmo's fire.2 “In Greek mythology, they say that if two flames of St Elmo's fire appear, they are named Castor and Pollux. They are the guardians of voyagers, and aiders of mankind, one of the many stars immortalised... like this.”

Lambo flipped up the tiny cowbell. It spun a few times, before he flicked it. “ _Asterion_!”

A green spear of light shot through one of Levi's hair spikes, a Parabola floating behind him, and hit the school entrance. Well, the term _spear_ implied a finite length, and the lack of the use of light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation to shoot the projectile. It was technically accurate, even though the only reason it could be traced back to Lambo's middle finger was due to the after-image of light trailing from it, which he used to flick the cowbell. Noise rumbled in with a slight delay. A shock-wave tore through the air, causing Levi, Belphegor and Gokudera to stumble.

Gokudera looked behind Levi, swallowing at the line of earth and asphalt and steel and glass and concrete blown apart, even after travelling a thirty-metre path of utter destruction. A steaming luminescence was shrouded as raindrops fell down and began boiling off with a low, constant _sizzle_ where it touched the entry point that dug straight through the façade of Namimori Middle School.

The green afterglow was still burning the air as Lambo set down his arm. It was accompanied with the smell of singed hair from Levi's direction.

“I just sent in my regular horns for maintenance,” Lambo commented, stroking Europa, and the sparks skittered into his hand as he produced one of Belphegor's fallen knives in his hand. “The only weapon I can use with these two is Asterion instead of my regular Elettrico Cornuta. And guess who was kind enough to leave so much ammo around.”

Gokudera stared. “The idiot cow... got _smart_?!”

Belphegor looked behind him, silently considering. “Stealing the prince's knives to use as ammo.... with a railgun, the projectile will shoot with supersonic muzzle velocity, until air friction vaporises it.”

Levi paused, considering Lambo for the first time with a new eye. He looked behind him, at the smoking crater, and then turned back-

Fifteen-year-old Lambo clapped a hand on either side of his head. Levi's nose met the time-travelling hitman's forehead, and that was only the start of the grapple-and-punch combination. The grown Lambo punched his opponent some more, using the chain from which the Lightning Ring hung to hold Levi's head in place. The chain broke on a solid rabbit punch, letting the Varia's Lightning slump down to his knees and met the ground solidly.

Belphegor attacked, but the knives kept moving towards the corkscrewing horns that Lambo wore, stuck helplessly along with the wires trailing from it. The princely assassin dropped both knives and wires as green shrouded them again and threatened to electrocute him.

Gokudera frowned. “...you've been hanging out with Ietsuna-sama way too much. Definitely.”

Lambo gave a bitter laugh as he turned on Belphegor.

“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” Lambo grinned at Belphegor; a grin that echoed Ietsuna’s worst traits of cruel apathy and practicality graced his face. Gokudera knew it, having been exposed to it in his first and only fight against Ietsuna. “Do. You?”

In answer, Belphegor drew more knives. “What use does the prince have for the stars, when he has the Storm to tear everything in his way down?”

Green as the sparks that lit Lambo's head, Lambo plucked off one of the attracted knives on Europa. “If you're a prince, then I'm the monster coming to kill you.”

Another flash of green light, and a smoking crater was opened into Namimori Middle School once again. Belphegor was nowhere to be found.

“He ran in!” Gokudera caught up to what had happened. “What the hell?! What was that?!”

“I... I copied it from a book,” Lambo laughed uneasily. “Well? Cool, right?!”

“W- What happened?” Gokudera asked.

“I adapted everything Ie- I mean, Master taught me!” Lambo eagerly imparted. “Master would be so happy at me!”

“Right...” Gokudera drawled, before another thought occurred to him. “Wait, the Ninth! And that guy's inside too! Come on!”

“Erm... if I go in, I'll blow the whole building,” Lambo shrugged.

“Fine, you stand here and guard the place. I'm going in.”

“W- Wait.”

“What?” Gokudera insisted.

“...you'll need remote detonators,” Lambo shrugged. “It didn't come from me, but in my experience, Master likes to bring down buildings.”

“...che,” Gokudera scoffed as the cow-print hitman handed him a pile of remote detonators. “...thanks.”

“ _Buona sera,_ _sotto capo._ ”

Gokudera's tread echoed off the walls of Namimori Middle School as Lambo settled to let the rain wash over him.

“Why did I do that?” Lambo murmured to himself. “I completed the promise. I'll meet them again. So... why did I show off now? I... If I mess up the timeline... but I don't want this. I... I gained power, but what will I use it for?”

Inside the school, Gokudera stopped. “Wait. _Sotto capo_? So... I'm the Tenth's right hand? Wait, that stupid cow's in the Bovino, right? Or did we keep him in the Vongola? Ah, wait, doesn't this create a time paradox? Unless the Noikov self-consistency principle is in effect... or, this is a timey-wimey ball!”

“Ah, I don't know!” Gokudera hissed in the middle of another scuffle with Belphegor, this one with him rolling into a nearby home economics room.

His cellphone beeped. Gokudera read the message off the small screen without flipping it up:

  
_From: Sawada Ietsuna_  
 _To: Gokudera Hayato_  
 _Time: 11: 44 PM, 24 Oct 2005_

_Need you to bring down the school and stop Xanxus from boxing Tsuna in. Will take over for you.  
  _

“The Tenth...” Gokudera relaxed, recalling Ietsuna's words. _Nothing in this universe is more important than my brother..._

“Yes... It doesn't matter. I'll reach it no matter what.”

The window outside broke into a solid pane, and Ietsuna heaved as he hauled himself, the pane of broken glass in his hand. One side of it was completely duct-taped. The Sawada twin shivered, sopping wet from the rain and doubtlessly cold. “You got remote bombs?”

Gokudera grinned, recalling the remote detonators as he stood up. “Yeah. Right now, the Tenth needs me. I'll leave him to you.”

“Three minutes. You're the brain of them all, so... I'm entrusting Tsuna to you, Gokudera Hayato.”

Gokudera tried not to fanboy on the way down. Really.

* * *

Her eye-patch securely wrapped over her right eye again, Chrome leant on her weapon for support as she slowly walked out of the gymnasium. Passing by an umbrella stand, she fished out an indigo umbrella, opening it to head out under the rainy skies, towards the baseball green. “Mukuro-sama? How did I do?”

_When Sawada Ietsuna picks a battlefield, it usually means that he's going to destroy the whole place, dear Nagi. It is commendable only by how thorough a job he does. You did commendably, though our opponent was clearly holding back and reluctant to fight. That Gandhari curse must be truly terrible._

“I will wear this for Mukuro-sama,” Chrome replied. “Still... Ietsuna-san doesn't have so many explosives at his disposal... right?”

_Between the Bovino and Gokudera Hayato?_

“Ah,” Chrome nodded, hiding by the bleachers as a wave of muddy water narrowly missed her boots. “Oh!”

Chrome's exclamation was a fairly accurate descriptor. The power behind Superbi Squalo's diagonal slash was almost visible in the wet, muddy and flooded field the baseball green currently held, like a giant wave crashing down on the shore. Yet, the baseball ace, simply pivoting to parry with the force of his entire body. The ringing of blade against blade and the sharp screech of metal that drew up sparks of blue reigned on the field this night, as thunder rumbled overhead in a distant knell.

The catcher's box behind Yamamoto cracked, the wire fence shaking from the run-off shock wave. “That's a bit rude,” Yamamoto was smiling, albeit watching Squalo with caution as the older swordsman was sent stumbling back.

“He defended!” Chrome exclaimed.

_Of course. His foot's on home plate._

Caught off guard, Chrome leant close to check, her visible eye widening. “He's... batting...?!”

Squalo glanced down, and then looked around, sword up despite his momentary reconnaissance of the field. “VOI! Are you fucking shitting me?!”

_He's quite a natural hitman. If anything, his instincts could cover for his lack of skill and experience._

Yamamoto had shifted – like he was truly running for first base, earning him another infuriated yell from Squalo and a charge. His back fell behind, almost like Yamamoto had slipped and fallen, and his foot lashed out.

Squalo ducked mid-charge, rolling with the momentum and the muddy field to avoid the katana that had been calculatedly kicked at his direction. Getting up, Yamamoto had already reached first base, and the Shigure Kintoki was in his hands.

“Shigure Souen Ryū, third offensive form... Last Minute Rain,” Squalo gritted out, his face twitching as he clambered to his feet, the mud being washed out of his hair by the rain overhead. He swept his sword out, the water droplets falling from the blade invisible in the night. “So you study the Shigure Souen Ryū, eh?”

“Yep!” Yamamoto kept smiling. “You've heard of it?! That's great. My old man told me his style was flawless and invincible.”

The comment earned a snort. “It's not,” Squalo scoffed. “I beat it. The opponent I fought said the same thing, and he still lost. So will you, amateur.”

“Yeah, I might,” Yamamoto was surprisingly insouciant about his impending death. “I've still got a long way to go before I master it. And my opponent is you, the second-in-command. That bird-baasan said you guys were strong!”

“Bird-baasan?” Squalo echoed, with the uncertainty of someone actually realising that they were not, in fact, having the same conversation.

“Oh, she said to tell you guys, she wants the money for her walking stick sent to the Namimori Hospital.”

There was an explosion of green by the school building. Under the uncontrolled electricity, several floodlights came on, to illuminate an expression every teacher might have, when faced with the remarkable creature known as the Japanese _obaa_ - _san_.

“Oi, are you alright?” Yamamoto paused in momentary concern. “She's just in the hospital, not dead. You guys didn't kill her or anything, alright?”

“...that woman survived World War Two, a fucking genocide, and three civil wars. It'll take more to kill her,” Squalo's face straightened. “You're the one about to die here!”

“I gotta work with what I have,” Yamamoto considered. “You know... Ietsuna said that you're probably the brains propelling the motivation. Since you had the sense to run away from Bird-baasan.”

Squalo considered the words carefully. It was an uncannily true assessment, which meant that the Mauviette had been singing about the Varia's defeat. Or the runt and his group knew the old crone, and that was a _very_ distinct possibility. “What about it?”

“So, if this...” Yamamoto waved his hand, unable to communicate the sheer scale of the conflict in a word, “...didn't happen, then you threatening Tsuna ten days ago was simply business for you.”

“More or less,” Squalo admitted, and then glared at Yamamoto. “Is this vendetta? You've made it this far, I'll give you that. So, as a reward, I'll use my secret technique on you! Scontro di Squalo!”

The sky and water painted a fleeting, scattering rainbow as Squalo charged, waves of fine droplets – and mud – blown to the sides by the power of his many diagonal slashes. Lightning flashed overhead, the floodlights dying one by one, like heralding their advances. Only two floodlights were left, shining down on either side of Yamamoto.

_I will protect you this time, Tsuna._

A roaring symphony manifested, somehow; the thunder rung a knell, more lightning flashed, and the rain was getting warmer _and_ colder, if that was possible. Yamamoto found himself undisturbed, more balanced and focused than he had in years. He was exactly where he needed to be; right here, to fight this man, and then protect Tsuna.

The blade shone blue as it was pointed behind. A whirlwind of water kicked up, shielding its wielder – the seventh defensive form, Splashing Rain. Squalo sliced through it, an arc in the dimness off the rain under only two floodlights, stunned as Yamamoto's sword descended down him.

“Shigure Souen Ryū, ninth offensive form, Duplicate Rain.”

Both halves of the Rain Ring glimmered under the twin lights.

* * *

Despite the pouring rain, swept along by monsoon winds that heralded winter coming to the land, Lussuria was quite warm. In fact, the two Sun Guardians battling could be said to be quite heated, if one's preferred choice of view was watching damp, sweaty guys punch each other into bloody pulp.

“This is so fun~!” Lussuria cooed over his broken nose. “I didn't expect teenagers to be so sneaky.”

“I extremely don't know about that,” Ryohei honestly replied, wiping his mouth. “but I gotta ask you something. Are you with the long-haired Yankee that attacked two weeks ago?”

“Yes, Handsome~♥,” Lussuria affirmed. “Squalo was just doing his job.”

“And this extreme fighting in the rain is because your Boss extremely wants to kill Sawada, yes?”

Lussuria's smirk widened, and his tongue covered his lips, which were turning blue from the rain, and why were they fighting in the rain again? “Exactly, boy~♥. Of course, given how Boss was eyeing your Boss, I'm sure that cute boy would be suffering a... _different_ kind of death. He has nice legs, doesn't he?”

The euphemism clearly sailed right over Ryohei's head, but the innuendo clearly got through that rather thick skull as Ryohei's mouth opened. There was a functional reply to be had. An explosion of green occurred, and over the thunder and sudden debris where Levi and Belphegor had been, Lussuria could barely hear... except when Ryohei started charging at him.

“I, Sasagawa Ryohei, am extremely going to protect Sawada from bad touches!” Lussuria was punched on the nose.

… _The brat's taken. Definitely._

* * *

If the rest of the school was any indication, one would have expected the quadrangle of Namimori Middle to be about the same. It was not; if anything could be said, between the parts of charred walls, broken windows and icy shards littering the ground, the best would be _warzone_.

“Not bad, trash,” Xanxus admitted, smoothly reloading with the ease and speed of countless repetitions when Tsuna sped up to him. Orange sparks flew up, glimmering like stars in the wet night as Xanxus gazed upon them-

His instinct told him to run, and he shot his newly reloaded gun with his combined Flame and the Dying Will Bullets within. The thrust might wrench his left arm, but as he watched the star swell up into a half-dome that charred the quadrangle and caused the rain dropping onto it to vaporise immediately, he couldn't bring himself to overly care until another body clamped down on his firing arm.

“Yo,” grinned the identical copy of her- _him_ \- anyway, the copy grabbed his arm in passing. The temperature dropped, and with it Xanxus watched in horror as his left hand was trapped up to the triceps in ice.

“Guh!” Xanxus pistol-whipped him in retaliation, the blow sending him flying into a standing wall and crashing into Namimori Middle School.

“Ie!”

“Die!” Xanxus yelled, and then there was a sound and presumably, his twin was distracted by deflecting the bullet hell that was Xanxus. _Like a Touhou game,_ Ietsuna uncharitably thought. _So would that make him Flandre?_ _Actually, that would make Tsuna_ _as_ _Marisa, right? 3_

... _wrong comparison,_ Ietsuna decided when Xanxus laughed and his brother was hit by another blast of Flame that just narrowly singed part of Tsuna's skirt. _Except Tsuna, because Tsuna can be whatever he wants._ _Except that the school are keeping him hemmed in, and the lightning_ _keeping him low,_ _and he can't leave the campus in order to protect innocent citizens._ _Xanxus has far greater reach._ _Tsuna_ _needs more space._

From his leaning on the broken walls of Namimori Middle, Ietsuna frowned as he heard a dissonant laugh from within Namimori, shaking his head. _That's not Mukuro. Yamamoto's entertaining the_ _sword_ _Yankee. Sasagawa-sempai is with the_ _sunglasses_ _Mohawk_ _._ _Xanxus is here. Mammon hasn't found me,_ _and is more likely to be the type to appear out of nowhere and fight quietly_ _._ _That leaves the blond with the tiara, Belphegor._ _Maître said that he's a killing genius;_ _he_ _uses knives and wires._ _So... I need to make sure he's_ not _using those._

He pulled out his phone. He was in a storm, surrounded by trees, and his phone still had a signal. The last one, as far as he was concerned, was downright miraculous. It was thus also a sign that Ietsuna should quit playing by the Mafia's rules or obey expectations.

Within the school, more explosions resounded, along with Gokudera's muffled curse. _Gokudera's in the school already? Excellent._

  
_From: Sawada Ietsuna_  
 _To: Gokudera Hayato_  
 _Time: 11: 44 PM, 24 Oct 2005_

_Need you to bring down the school and stop Xanxus from boxing Tsuna in. Will take over for you.  
  _

“Neither of you could ever become the Decimo, trash!” Xanxus's rage translated into an extra-large Flame of Wrath that Tsuna just barely managed to dodge. “The position of Vongola's Boss, Vongola the Tenth, is _mine_! You aren't Boss material, trash!”

Tsuna's brow furrowed over his golden eyes as Ietsuna chose to scale the building and crash through a window into the school, away from them. Stars sparked up again from his hands and fell to the ground. Heat bloomed at an incredible speed with vaporised the rain and surrounded the two fighters, much like a fully laden sauna in the midst of a blizzard. “Yes. It should be yours.”

“Then... then why did you exist?!” Xanxus roared, smashing his frozen arm against one wall of Namimori. “If you didn't exist... if you didn't exist...!”

An orange Gerbera daisy fell out from Xanxus' lapel, to land in a nearby puddle. Tsuna blinked, but then Xanxus was upon him again, bright Flames of Wrath being hurled at his direction as Tsuna waltzed and danced out of each of them. They erupted upon landing, eddies of Flame that steamed the earth upon impact, skimming over the puddles here and there.

“Why?” Xanxus bit out. “I fought, I killed... I took control of the Varia! I fucking proved myself! Even when-”

Xanxus paused, swallowed. “Even when the rest of them died... why won't he name me?!”

The scars of his face was illuminated by a brief flash of the lightning overhead. Standing this close to a force of nature, it was almost philosophical, this mass battle of children against assassins, illuminated under a dark-haired, scarred soldier railing in his own desperation.

Tsuna stepped into one puddle; it splashed into his Oxfords. It was surprisingly cold under the heat. Ie would know why the puddle is cold underneath, he thought uncertainly.

* * *

 _**1 Gandhari (Sanskrit: ** _ _**गांधारी** _ _**) is a character in the Mahabharata. She was an incarnation of Mati, the Goddess of Intelligence, as the daughter of Subala, the king of Gandhara. The wife of Dhritarastra, she blindfolded herself after the marriage to share the pain of her blind husband. Gandhari's sacrifice of her eyesight and her austere life granted her great spiritual power, allowing her to grant powers and make curses. She was blessed with a hundred sons, the Kauravas, and one daughter, Dushala. She cursed Krishna at the end of the Kurukshetra war out of anguish over all of her sons' deaths in the war, resulting in Krishna and the rest of his dynasty perishing after 36 years.**_

2 _**'** _ _**Bo-ōpis' is the epithet of the Greek goddess Hera, meaning 'ox-eyed'. Europa and Pasiphaë are the names of two Cretan queens associated with bulls. Asterion is the Cretan name of the Minotauros, or Minotaur. The** _ _**railgun** _ _**concept, by the way, is inspired** _ _**by** _ _**Misaka Mikoto.** _

_**3 Touhou is a series of Japanese scroll-shooter games of the Bullet Hell genre, and all the characters named in this sentence are characters in the game, playable or stage-bosses. Flandre Scarlet is known as the 'Sister of the Devil', and is one of the most difficult bosses in the game with the ability to destroy anything. Marisa Kirisame is the 'Ordinary Magician' who, as a human, worked her way up to become a magician.** _


	23. Folio 22: Maestà

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for the delay in posting, Real Life cropped up. In exchange, have another omake! – LLS

_The dream you see, is like a prayer written on paper with aged ink._

_The things your small hands grasp for, are still nowhere to be found._

_Even so, I have decided, that I want to continue to protect the path you walk. For the sake of keeping the beautiful things the way they are._

_Under the dazzling twilight, I wonder... just how far will your voice reach._

* * *

Everything about tonight was infuriating for Xanxus. The bad weather, the raging storm with absent typhoon alarms, the fact that he was getting halfway soaked and one arm had been frozen when he was caught off-guard. Him, Xanxus; the brutal, notorious, intimidating Varia leader. Caught off-guard. By a puny civilian, no less. He might as well have stuck his neck out for the guillotine.

His opponent was infuriating, too. It just wasn’t his night, and the main source of everything gone wrong was his ridiculous opponent. The _true_ heir of Vongola, or one of them. The boy was weak, and looked like a half-hearted gale of wind could break him in half. Yes, Xanxus had seen the civilian, and immediately underestimated him. Instead, the boy proved to be much more resilient than his physical build would suggest, shrugging off the pelting rain or the winter wind, clad in only a thin shirt and a fucking _skirt_. A rather short skirt, at that. It made Xanxus feel slightly dim.

“Trash!” Xanxus continued, keeping the other twin at bay. "It should have been mine! I only wanted what belonged to me! So... why?"

The three sons had been killed, one after another, and Xanxus had awoken hoping that _perhaps_ \- Only no. It was Squalo, bearing news that another heir was present. And then Mammon's follow-up, that they were _twins_. He had to be fooled by one of them. Like his job wasn't complicated enough already.

One arm frozen, the other arm keeping the girly one at bay. The brat hit hard, though; Xanxus had to acknowledge that bit. Still, as long as he could keep the brat at bay, he could smash the ice off. Even the Zero Point Breakthrough had to give way to infrastructure-

The roofs began to fall under them. Xanxus lost his shit.

“Screw this all!” Spittle flew, unseen amongst the curtain of rain except for where they reflected the flickering orange Flames that Xanxus just shot in a single, concentrated blast at Sawada Tsunayoshi. “ _Martello di Fiamma!_ ”

* * *

It was ironially poetic that everything was happening in a storm, really, Mammon reflected as he escaped the gymnasium under his illusions. Especially with two Skies involved.

There was crazily devoted loyalty like Levi, and then there was... _whatever_ that girl had under her eye-patch. Mammon had not taken a curse that strong since the Stregheria revival in Sicily. 1 The curse had been deflected, just barely, and thus Mammon had quickly escaped. A fight at this stage was only going to increase the chances of Xanxus killing the only lead Mammon had to breaking the curse.

Mammon nearly dashed out, only stopping to float as a stick of dynamite flew out and almost detonated over him. “You're not supposed to be chasing the prince,” Belphegor's voice taunted, a bit further down.

The other Storm candidate did not answer, which Mammon gave him props for. Since the use of dynamite – which nearly took out Mammon, however accidental – and knives both favoured enclosed spaces, it was almost expected that Belphegor would have tried to move the battle indoors. Then, it was only a matter of planning and setting up the field to take them out.

Belphegor had the advantage, Mammon knew. He was a trained, experienced assassin, which made a difference. When it came to killing, Belphegor was a genius.

“Ushishishi, the peasant's gone off to hole up,” Belphegor giggled as he approached the classroom where Gokudera had presumably disappeared into. “Well, that's fine. The prince likes to play hide-and-seek too.”

There's only a classroom, Mammon recalled. Unless he barricaded everything-

The door flew open with a kick. “Oh? Not even a barricade? I guess you must be scared out of your-”

An answering kick to the head sent Belphegor skidding back.

“For the crime of vandalism on the ground of Namimori Middle,” Ietsuna breathed in answer, pulling on a familiar red armband onto his left arm, “the Disciplinary Committee is here.”

Mammon stared.

“What the hell?!” Belphegor raged. “When did _you_ get here?!”

“Ah, Xanxus was too busy trying to look up Tsuna's skirt, so I left them to their pseudo-chase and came for the other creepy guy reported to be running around our school,” Ietsuna drawled.

“You have guts, to be mocking the prince,” Belphegor heatedly responded, drawing more knives. “Well... anyway, little jester, you're just in time to entertain the prince.”

“I see,” Ietsuna nodded. “So, shall we play a game? The most dangerous game, that is.”

“Oh?” Belphegor mused. “You're not like your twin at all.”

“Well, siblings can be polar opposites too,” Ietsuna replied. “I have to admit, Tsuna is much kinder than myself. Personally, sometimes I don't get why he lets his enemies live, but he's my brother.”

“Isn't that right, shishishi,” Belphegor grinned, toying with a blade. “The prince is surprised, that neither of you have killed the other yet. Don't you find it frustrating, that someone else in this world is your exact copy? From the moment we were born, we hated each other.”

“Each... other...?” Ietsuna echoed.

“Each _other_ ,” Belphegor sniggered. “The prince wasn't born alone in this world either. We fought each other... yes, it started with a stupid fight. We threw rocks... we threw boulders... we threw knives...”

“Boulders? Does that even exist?”

“Don't interrupt other people's flashbacks. Anyway,” and here Belphegor smiled. “I finally won, _permanently_. Then, I killed the rest of the royal family, and joined the Varia to taste even more blood.”

“That's such an awfully comical way to describe a tragedy,” Ietsuna lamented. “Have you figured it out yet? Where Gokudera has run to.”

“Che,” Belphegor clicked his tongue, and flung his blades towards Ietsuna. One of Ietsuna's hands shot out with a broom handle, coolly wrapping all the knives before the wires attached to them cut into the bamboo and broke it. Belphegor collapsed to avoid a precisely aimed palette knife, as the building began shaking.

“Oh,” Ietsuna nodded. “He started a revolution.”

Mammon flew towards one of the broken windows and leapt out immediately, watching smoke billow from the foundations as half of Namimori Middle School threatened to cave. Fantasma croaked as the rain pattered down on them, shifting to snake form just in time for Mammon to hover back up.

“Screw you!” Belphegor yelled, dashing for a window.

Ietsuna stepped down upon the interrupted knives, and two arms covered in long sleeves were yanked back by the piano wires still trailing from it, trapping the blond assassin with his own weapon.

“Drop your weapons and surrender,” Ietsuna was drawling, cool despite the fact that Belphegor was already looking for exit points to the building and that, well, the building was shaking.

“Oi, oi,” Belphegor snarled, pulling up a ring hanging around his neck. “I still have the Storm Ring here. Are you prepared to let it be buried?”

From around his neck, Ietsuna pulled an identical chain. Belphegor's jaw turned slack as the sight of the Half Sky Ring hanging innocently there.

“For my brother, I am prepared to destroy the Vongola Rings,” Ietsuna spoke with a smile, no hesitation, and complete sincerity. “I just don't get the point of battling it out for these old trinkets, whether or not they grant power. You're Varia Quality, right? I'm sure you can survive a building collapsing on you. If you don't, Gokudera will just pry the Ring from your corpse. I'll be sure to keep you _right_ here for him.”

 _He's serious,_ Mammon realised as Ietsuna bent over and started trying to touch his toes. _He must have climbed in through the window, planned with Gokudera, and then came out to distract Bel, so that Gokudera c_ _ould_ _set up the explosives. Normally, assassins will definitely move to protect their own lives first..._ _should I intervene?_ _What should I do?_

Cracks were digging into the floor, the concrete already breaking under the strain of the building collapsing under its own weight. Thunder boomed overhead, and the rain was swept in by the wind to scatter all over the floor, though exposure to the elements was frankly minor compared to the fact that the building was being collapsed on top of them. Pieces of debris fell down, glass shattered, and the steel I-beams in the supports began bending.

Belphegor pulled another knife and starting hacking at the wires attached on him. Xanxus would flip his shit if a Vongola Ring was left in the hands of perhaps the greatest death-seeker Belphegor had ever met, and then Belphegor would be a pile of ashes. Right now, though, Belphegor was more concerned with getting out. Xanxus would have no fun incinerating a crushed corpse. The prince could excavate the rings from the rubble later, as long as he was alive. The wires were yanked, and Belphegor's arm slipped. An animalistic snarl escaped from Belphegor as he looked up.

“ _Oops_ _~_ ” Amber eyes blinked, mildly interested as Belphegor gave up on hacking the wires on his arm and charged at Ietsuna, who was still bent over.

“I've got you!” Belphegor screamed.

“Yes.” Then Mammon saw him smile.

The building caved in, clouds of dust kicking up in its wake and being dampened by the wind and rain. The rubble was steadily soaked in the rain. Overhead, lightning flashed, illuminated the silhouette of a man spear-tackling another man into the sky.

Mud kicked up as they landed, one clearly cushioning the other. There was a single thud, and Belphegor wheezed. “How dare you- use the prince-”

Ietsuna clambered to his feet, immediately lashing out with a frontal kick. Mammon winced as Belphegor gurgled. Ietsuna snatched the ring off of him and ran without looking back, towards the epicentre of the fight once more.

Sighing, and shivering from the chilling rain, Mammon made himself appear. “That was disgraceful, Belphegor.”

“Shut up, Mammon,” Belphegor coughed, shivering. “The prince... is soaking. That bastard... Mammon, what about-”

“I gave up the Ring,” Mammon replied delicately. “That girl had a _malocchio_ prepared in her skull2. There's no need to take on more curses without adequate payment.”

“Eh? Aren't you the Esper Mammon? The Arcobaleno with the greatest psychic ability, bordering on magic?” Belphegor teased, laid out on the wet ground before struggling to his feet. “Come on. There's a wolf cub to hunt.”

“Wolf?” Mammon pondered.

“That bastard twin would happily toss the Rings into Mt Fuji given half a chance,” Belphegor snarled, wincing and gingerly touching his back. “The prince does not forgive impudent peasants!”

Demonic wrath and the thunder overhead echoed as a shadow descended upon Namimori. It was like vengeance, the night, and shades of a certain notional hero who may, coincidentally, be part carnivore.

“I will bite you all to _death_!”

* * *

_Your whisper, is like a sword that is tearing my closed heart into pieces. There is no way to protect this body, that was exposed to the innocent light._

_I accept without hesitation the radiance of melancholy. I wished to protect you in the darkness._

_Where did you come from? Just how far are you going? As we stand at the place from whence we were once born... What will we think about? What will we search for? And just how far will I reach? To extend out to the dawn..._

* * *

Gokudera felt giddy and slightly hysterical from the adrenaline rushing through his body. He’d just brought down a building – Namimori’s most dangerous – and survived. If he could do that, he could definitely survive the on-going rush of Varia reinforcements.

All choke-points for a discreet entrance into the school grounds had been cut off by a hitman – two, in the case of the Hibari matriarchs. Gokudera had minimal work to do in the cold rain, hence he was being a good right-hand-

“Yo, octo-head! Isn't tonight _extreme_?!”

“Shut up, turf-top,” Gokudera slumped, no longer caring about the seemingly inevitable prospect of bronchitis or pneumonia creeping up on them. “Where's the stupid cow-” He cut off as he spotted a familiar cow-print onesie and its owner snoozing in an alcove that survived the collapse of Namimori Middle School. “-at least the brat's sheltered. Now, we need to find the Tenth and help out.”

“Haha!” Yamamoto joined the crowd, laying down an unconscious Squalo next to the knocked-out Lussuria that Ryohei had just laid out with extreme prejudice. “That's what I was thinking of.”

The punch had been delivered with a promise to take him on again – which any viewers would agree was even more extreme that the right straight that created a suspiciously Lussuria-shaped crater in a nearby wall. Yet, that exhibition of human extremes had extremely kindled the flames of passion in Ryohei's rather burning heart, if not his rather dim wits. “Yosh! Let's go extremely help Sawada!”

“I'd go the other way if I were you,” Mukuro's voice floated behind them as the three of them made to walk by the school front.

“Shut up, Mukuro,” Gokudera scoffed absently, his mind fixated on the precious Tenth Vongola Boss and how Gokudera's poor future Boss must be suffering under the hands of Xanxus, the _fiend_. “There's nothing-”

Mukuro simply hummed as a _crack_ of concrete breaking happened out of sight. An ashen-faced Gokudera quickly backed away around the corner he had just turned, and walked to the other side. Yamamoto and Ryohei followed him, although not to quite the extremes that Gokudera made to stay silent after watching Hibari Kyoya seemingly liquidise someone over his school, or its current lack thereof.

The silence of pouring rain lasted only until Gokudera managed to spot the firestorm of orange still in the skies. Then it was punctuated with the proclamation of “TENTH!” in time with rolling thunder and a somersaulting individual.

The Flames of Wrath burned down, banked from expending an extremely powerful Martello di Fiamma. Yet, the attack did not hit. Rather, it hovered like some haze or halo, inexorably pulled into a vortex to him. It was like the candles at Mass in the Oratorio di San Lorenzo, he thought.

His father- no, the Ninth had brought him there, but instead of saying Mass or praying or anything, the two of them had just sat there to look at the ghostly outline of Caravaggio's lost masterpiece. Young Xanxus definitely didn't respect art or religion, and scorned those who prayed to God or Heaven or _something_ for a better life instead of tearing one out with their own hands. He remembered, though, the old man staring sadly at the picture and promising not to make mistakes again. Xanxus in his wish for a father had been fooled to believe that the _mistake_ was abandoning his mother-

“Stop it! You don't know anything about me!” Not to be outdone, Xanxus clubbed the figure in the centre with his frozen arm. Tsuna gasped, winded from the onslaught, but the Flames focused and winked into nothingness, the rain descending in an instant. “Stop it!”

Their punches met. Flames of Wrath kindled the length of Xanxus' arms, and the ice cracked and shattered to free it. They winked out just as quickly, absorbed with the Flame on Tsuna's forehead and hands, leaving Xanxus to stare down into pools of amber framed in soft eyes.

“You are part of the Vongola Family,” spoke the angel of fire. “You are the leader of the Varia. You are the son of Timoteo-jiisan. I know that much. I don't really understand why do you want to become boss of the Vongola so badly. I _can_ understand if you want to become the Tenth, to prove yourself as the son of Timoteo-jiisan.”

Xanxus coughed, pulling one of his guns close with his other hand. The barrel pressed into Tsuna's chest.

Tsuna sighed. “He didn't want this for you.”

He fell back just as another flash appeared in the distance, his back hitting the ground.

A gunshot went off. Xanxus coughed, his body snapping back from the impact. Tsuna fled by rolling to the side as his brother aimed and fired off three shots from a black handgun at Xanxus.

Xanxus growled as he dodged behind a chunk of concrete, moving for his own guns without hesitation. “At least you have more sense than your twin.”

“Mmm, he's the one who gives the mercy around here,” Ietsuna nodded, ducking behind a stray chunk of concrete to make another shot. Xanxus cursed, which Ietsuna took to mean that he had been hit.

“A gun doesn't mean shit if you don't know how to use it!” Xanxus roared while reloading. His head snapped to the side, and Xanxus bodily chucked himself out of the way of the incoming bullet.

Having mounted the chunk of concrete for a clear shot, Ietsuna simply corrected his aim and fired. Xanxus snarled as he summoned Flames, the pseudo-wall coherent enough to make the bullet veer off course. Steam exploded from the vaporisation of the rain, and Xanxus coughed.

Cold erupted as the Flames froze, causing the Varia leader to fall back and glare at Ietsuna, who scowled back.

“Che,” Ietsuna clicked his tongue, using the barrier of Xanxus' frozen wall to hide behind and reload. “Seven bullets in this magazine... twenty bullets altogether. He probably knows this too.”

The person in question scowled as he was drenched further. “He had a _gun_? Did that Reborn give him that?”

Observing the match under a Leon-umbrella, Reborn blinked. “Where did he get that gun? In _Japan_? 3”

“You know, that idiot of our father left a gun in a civilian house with his wife and sons, where anyone could find it,” Ietsuna commented idly once Xanxus had stopped shooting at the block of ice. “I suppose this is a favour.”

“So, that old man is really out to get me, eh?” Xanxus snapped. “People die if they're shot, you know!”

“Yes,” Ietsuna's response gave him pause. “I am fighting to remove _you_. From the face of the Earth.”

Xanxus blanched, X-guns up and firing at the slightest provocation. A full-powered blast of Dying Will Flames consumed the whole chunk of frozen concrete, and Ietsuna behind it. The blast was powerful enough to send the whole chunk ploughing into the school fences.

“ _Ie_!” the scream of despair which Xanxus felt only partially bad for echoed as the storm began to falter only to return with a vengeance and a heat wave. The night was lightening. A bell began to toll in the distance, a funereal dirge: _One... two... three... four..._

Warm and clammy heat seared around them. Xanxus looked back, and his jaw gaped. There was a monster, or some personification of fire incarnate. _Five... six... seven... right..._

The orange Flame that surrounded him burned hot enough to make it seem like midnight had turned into noon in Namimori, a streak of orange in the night. All bullets melted before they could even get close to Tsuna.

_Nine... ten... eleven... twelve..._

Tsuna who was right in front of him, fist raised-

Hibari was moving, tonfas out and eyes glimmering with bloodlust.

Tsuna was faster. Xanxus went down with a punch to the stomach, no longer able to do battle.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi-” Grey eyes narrowed, tonfas prepared. Hibari had just been denied.

“He hurt Ie,” Glowing gold eyes looked back at him, as Flames erupted from the ground around Tsuna.

“Extremely fast!” Ryohei exclaimed, by the sidelines of the staring duel that seemed to have sparked up.

“Those Dying Will Flames allow Tsuna to move at high speeds,” Reborn explained, frowning as he hopped down to the ground. “I need to check something.”

Reborn ran towards the hole in the wall where Ietsuna had been slammed through. Behind him, one of Tsuna's maddened screams echoed. A ring of steel of flesh joined the chorus, along with a battle cry; Ryohei had apparently got into the fight as well.

Spattered by the falling, fading rain, Ietsuna was curled up amongst the rubble. He looked small and vulnerable, his presence gone. Reborn traced the face, eyes closed as if in slumber, and checked the blued throat for a pulse.

“...Leon!”

The eyes remained closed as Reborn fired off a flare first, and then knelt to pound at the boy's chest, tearing off a soaked shirt. The green chameleon defibrillators shocked Ietsuna once, and Reborn continued to pound. Shamal came along and took over the process, repeating the shocking and pounding twice more. Namimori Middle grew in orange Flames. It sounded like all the Guardians were at war with some mysterious being, with a burning Namimori Middle as the backdrop.

“It's... no use,” Shamal gasped after the third shock. “He's... it's more than internal bleeding, his neck's snapped and his skull's crushed. He's-”

“I failed this student,” Reborn hissed, even as Leon curled up by his shoulder. “I... failed.”

There was a cry, hoarse with despair in the false brightness. Gokudera was yelling, yelling for the Tenth to snap out of it, to regain control, even Timoteo was shouting- and then Tsuna was tearing across to tackle his brother, ignoring Shamal and Reborn as he caught his twin.

A tear joined a puddle, before Reborn noticed the orange Flame spark into being on Ietsuna's chest.

The corpse stirred. Shamal blanched as Ietsuna twitched and stirred, his eyes opening to reveal bleary amber orbs.

“Ie...” Tsuna sniffed. The Flame on his head had winked out, and he did not apparently sense anything amiss.

Ietsuna stared back up at him. “...'s 't morning?”

Tsuna sniffed. “You're alright. You're alright. You're alright. You're alright, you're alright, you're alright, you're alright-”

“You're noisy!” Ietsuna complained, sitting up with a soft exhale that steamed in the cold. “What, it's not like I died, right? Why is it so bright?”

“TENTH! THE SCHOOL!”

* * *

“You do realise that I freeze Flames on contact, right?” Ietsuna was on a roll, ever since the Varia thing was cleaned up and everyone was checked into the hospital for two days. “As in, all Dying Will Flames, _bamf_ , ice. They _don't_ hurt me.”

“But there was so much fire,” Tsuna sniffed back, forced into a hospital wheelchair for the second time in two weeks. “I- I thought you really died, Ie! I was so worried!”

“So how the hell are we going to explain the human-shaped char mark on the ground!” Ietsuna unrepentantly continued in the face of his twin's pout and tear-filled stare. “You didn't even have the courtesy to kill the guy! He's right there making eyes at your skirt! Oi, Jii-san, pull your son together!”

“This milk pudding is to die for, Tsunayoshi-kun.” Timoteo smiled and nodded, reasonable in the face of a wild animal beside Xanxus' cot. “I can see the appeal, Alouette.”

“Isn't that right~?”

From his position in a mummy suit between two elderly Mafioso (or formerly thereof), Xanxus sighed. His eyes directed themselves to Tsuna's legs and stayed there. Tsuna squeaked and pulled down his skirt, despite the bandages around his legs and on multiple lacerations on his arms and torso under the white shirt he wore.

Coincidentally, the door of the ward flew open. “H- Hibari-san!” Tsuna cringed.

“Little animal, what are you doing? We must arrange alternate facilities while the school is being _rebuilt_ by a _generous_ donation. You must wear pants for this meeting.”

Tsuna swelled, about to retort back. He stopped. The memory of a burning Namimori made him cringe back on himself. “Y- yes, Hibari-san- _mmph_!”

Tsuna's voice became muffled when the prefect threw a bag at him. Cold cobalt eyes considered a certain skirt as well, even when Tsuna got the bag out of his face and then blanched.

“Don’t look at me, Tsuna,” Ietsuna shrugged at his twin's pleading look. “I don’t understand the minds of perverts. You should probably change into pants, though. Suzuki is a stickler for the dress code.”

“Are you alright, Kyoya?” Alouette blinked as her grandson beckoned the wheelchair towards himself. “You're wearing a neck brace. And...”

“How obvious, old carnivore,” Hibari bit back, glaring despite the cervical collar around his neck. There was a patch of inflamed skin, the outline of five fingers clearly imprinted on half his face, despite the bandage over one cheek. “I am much better than you are currently. I will come back at seventeen hundred hours. Let's go.”

“Shut up, Hibari- oh, U-san-”

“There's a third wheel, Kyoya.”

“ _U-san_!”

Xanxus made a particularly pained groan as they left.

“Don't worry,” Timoteo assured his son. “You are my son, so Tsunayoshi-kun would make an eligible marriage into the family somehow.”

“Timoteo, Tsu-chan is _my_ prospective grandson-in-law,” Alouette sniped back.

“Nothing is established,” Timoteo pointed out cheerfully.

“You're a century too early to be competing with me, _Teo_ ,” Alouette smirked at him.

“I may not match you in ability, but don't underestimate the Vongola, lark. And don't call me that.”

Being stuck between them, Xanxus began sweating at the flood of killer intent between the Ninth Vongola Boss and the Mauviette. The door swung open with a probable distraction.

“Coyote!”

“Coyote?” Alouette smiled at the paling Vongola Generation IX Storm Guardian, who seemed rooted to the spot. “ _Il y a bien longtemps, oui! Comment ça va?_ ”4

“Why the hell are _you_ here?!” the Storm Guardian croaked in Japanese.

“I'm waiting for Teo's son to recover so we can play musical sticks!” Alouette chirped. “You're playing too, right? Otherwise you wouldn't even _dare_ to come within twenty metres of my personal space. Of course, it took you a while to respond, eh? I _did_ send you a message two weeks ago. Who is behind you?”

“Who is she?” the younger man in a black suit, with a lizard tattoo on his left cheek, asked the older Guardian.

“A monster,” Coyote Nougat replied. “You're still alive, Alouette Durand?”

“Why so surprised, Coyote?” Alouette teased back with a smile. “There's no need to be formal. You aren't even in the same genus as Teo or myself, herbivore.”

The younger man growled. “Why, you-”

“Stop,” Coyote muttered, still glaring at Alouette. “Alouette, this is Brow Nie Jr, the senior's replacement. Brow, this _signora_ is Alouette Durand, a former hitwoman and the last survivor of the _Generazione Ottava d_ _ell_ _a_ _Famigli_ _a_. Be polite.”

“ _B- Buon giorno_ ,” Brow Nie bit out.

“Oh, Coyote,” Timoteo greeted, “thank you. I was afraid for my life and my pride if I had to be exposed to Alouette any longer.”

Coyote exhaled through his nostrils with an air of long-suffering. “She's going to pick a fight.”

“Yes,” Timoteo nodded.

“ _Everyone's_ here,” Coyote emphasised.

“ _Yes_.”

“She's going to kill Visconti.”

“Really?!” Brow Nie blanched. “What kind of monster is she?”

“I'm still right _here_ ,” Alouette smiled, and the grimness of it made the younger man step back. “You would be nice to an old woman like me, and help me up? _Right_?”

The young Mafioso immediately did as told.

“Come on,” Alouette beamed at him. “You're just like your father. I remember kicking him in the face.”

“Boss?” the Ninth's current Sun Guardian pleaded.

Timoteo smiled and nodded, leaving the Sun to his fate. “Do keep Alouette away from Visconti. Clouds have a tendency to fight each other, and I believe Visconti to be in a mood.”

The woman sauntered out, dragging Brow Nie along. The door closed.

“You've done it now, Xanxus,” Coyote sighted. “ _Durlindana_ is waiting for a chance to end you.”

“Hn,” Xanxus snorted. “The old bird isn't invincible.”

“Oh? Yet the whole Varia ran away from her.”

“We were ambushed!”

“You have the Flames of Wrath of the Secondo, and the Dying Will Guns of the Settimo, and you still lost with the numbers on your side,” Coyote pointed out.

“She had people too!” Xanxus shot back.

“Still, that bird is rather...” Coyote grimaced, “...unstable. I wonder what happened to her.”

“The Khmer Rouge,” Timoteo shook his head. “It is not a good topic. But... oh, Reborn, you're here.”

“Yes,” the world's greatest hitman stared at the Mafiosi present. “I must be here. Because, despite what we saw about Sawada Ietsuna, he's alive... when he's supposed to be dead.”

* * *

_I hear your faraway melody. For the sake of this one future... If it is for your dream, I will surely stretch out my hand towards the same distance as you, and stand by your side._

_I wonder, if I will reach the quiet sky you believed in? To reach for that endlessly radiant heavenly blue..._

* * *

_**1 Stregheria is a form of Italian American witchcraft. Stregheria is sometimes referred to as La Vecchia Religione ("the Old Religion"). The word ' stregheria' is an archaic Italian word for "witchcraft", the most used and modern Italian word being 'stregoneria'.**_

_**2 ITA: 'evil eye'. The evil eye is a curse believed to be cast by a malevolent glare, usually given to a person when they are unaware. Many cultures believe that receiving the evil eye will cause misfortune or injury.** _

_**3 In Japan, civilians are not allowed to carry swords or firearms, and this is a strict rule even with police officers.** _

_**4 FR: It's been a long time, yes! How are you?** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines interspaced here are part of Ietsuna's leitmotif, the Kalafina song 'Heavenly Blue'. It's awesome! In fact, I designate a leitmotif for all characters, and I find that Ietsuna's explain most of his motivations.


	24. Folio 23: Aureole

If there was one thing Xanxus despised more than being interrupted during his dinner...

“Blah blah blah – Flame – blah blah – kill – blah – Vongola –”

...it was being roped into attending meetings with stuffy, condescending, self-important geezers who had higher individual body counts than all of the Varia combined. They seemed to think it was a burden not to have creaky joints, ugly-as-fuck wrinkles, and embarrassing digestive problems. Just because Xanxus didn’t survive World War II, Mussolini, and _Mani pulite_ , or live through the threat of nuclear destruction, he must be inadequate.

The whole lot can go to the burning place with the demons or sleep with the fishes. He had better things to do – people to kill, idiots to scare – than to listen to the fogeys drone on and on about everything. Unfortunately, the twins had done quite the number on him – broken bones, bruised kidneys, strained muscles, and a spattering of deep lacerations – and thus he was currently immobilised with no chance of escape. He might not be able to escape physically, but the three-way argument between Coyote, the other Arcobaleno baby trash and the old man was about the topic of his considerations anyway:

What the fuck?

No, seriously. What. The. Fuck. A gender-ambiguous boy wearing a skirt beat the shit out of the Varia Boss – and Xanxus was man enough to admit it, since he had admitted Lussuria into the Varia corps. Plus, Xanxus had been fairly sure that the twin had broken his neck going through the fence. Xanxus had had his hand on the boy's throat, had felt the bone give. Somehow, the boy rises from the dead. That was going to give Xanxus bouts of paranoia for the rest of the year. Judging from the eye-bags that Coyote, Reborn, and the old man were sporting, the nightmares had already started.

“-imagining things. We are still woefully ignorant of the potential of Dying Will Flames,” the old man was saying.

Xanxus tuned back into the conversation, having sensed a lull in the discussion that signalled the start of what was truly interesting. A spasm of pain shot up his neck and was promptly ignored.

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a panting, dishevelled Iemitsu. “Ah, sorry about that,” Iemitsu said sheepishly. “I- It took a while to get past the Qingniao.”

“You're late, Iemitsu,” Reborn chided as Iemitsu closed the door with a silly grin on his face. “This conversation was supposed to be secret.”

Iemitsu's back straightened. “This does concern CEDEF. I do admit that I have some part in this, as these are my sons. As much as you would call me a negligent father, the external advisors need to be present for something... of this magnitude.”

Timoteo nodded, looking lost at sea. “Yes... he is your son. He was here. He was scolding me about Xanxus. I... don't understand.”

“This is no laughing matter,” Reborn cut in irritably. “Nono, I know what I saw. It is the same thing I’ve seen many times these past several months. Ietsuna cannot die. It is one thing to hear about it and another to witness with your own eyes. Tsuna does not know. He has no idea that he has bound himself to his twin so thoroughly, that death becomes a simple inconvenience. This is... Skull is fearsome because he can outlast extreme environments that even I might have difficulty with. For someone of Ietsuna's calibre... would be a fearsome hitman.”

“ _Dio mio_ ,” Coyote made a sign, pointing the index and little fingers down while keeping his other fingers in. “An immortal zombie who comes back from fatal injuries without a scratch. Are you sure Lorenzo hasn’t come back to haunt us all?”

“We finally have something,” Iemitsu pressed. “Now that we have a clear idea, I propose separating the twins so that the zombie's connection is cut-”

“The kid's a zombie?” Xanxus echoed. “ _Tocca palle 1_. That's... not right. Zombies don't steal guns and use them to shoot people.”

Timoteo threw a dirty glare at the blond Mafioso at the mention of guns. “Whose gun did he use?”

Iemitsu swallowed, and discreetly made the fig sign behind his back.

“I wasn't finished,” Reborn continued. “I saw an orange Flame spark on Ietsuna's chest from Tsuna. Then... then the boy was alive. There was not a scratch on him.”

“What does that mean?” Timoteo wondered aloud. “Ietsuna-kun is functionally immortal, then... but is that even _possible_?”

“We don't know enough about the Dying Will Flames yet, Timoteo,” Coyote pointed out. “Anyway, the boy is Lorenzo's grandson, and apparently is a carbon copy of the magnificent bastard, God bless his stained soul wherever it went.”

“Who's Lorenzo?” Xanxus asked.

“Oh, right, he left before you came. Lorenzo, real name Ietsuna Sawada, was the Ninth Generation's Lightning Guardian before Ganauche,” Coyote explained. “He's also the twins' late grandfather, which makes him Iemitsu's father, and thus part of the Primo bloodline as well. That... _bastard_ _o_... If it was him possessing his grandson's corpse, I wouldn't be surprised.”

“Ietsuna-kun is not his grandfather, Coyote,” Timoteo gently bit out. ““We are in danger of beating a dead horse with the topic of Ietsuna-kun and Tsunayoshi-kun-”

“While we’re talking about the fates of my sons, what about Xanxus?” Iemitsu cut in.

“ _Iemitsu_.”

Xanxus could feel his balls trying to crawl back into his body. There were times when all he could see was his lying bastard of a father, and there were times like these when Xanxus was forcibly reminded that said bastard father was also Boss of the Vongola Famiglia. He’d never seen someone so thoroughly crush the external advisor trash’s inflated ego as Vongola Nono did with just a name. Iemitsu remained silent.

“As for the matter of Xanxus, I wouldn’t worry so much,” Timoteo waved off airily. “It’s obvious that my responsibilities have been catching up to me in my old age. Xanxus became worried for my health, and forcibly removed me from my position for fear that I would work myself to meet my other sons. Unfortunately, my _son_ has never been the best planner, and his efforts at evading detection inadvertently worsened my condition. Fortunately, the Varia made it as far as Japan. I’ve heard that this country has some wonderful volcanic springs that are perfect for ailing elders like myself and far away from Sicily, although I do miss the Triangle. Xanxus is with me, of course, to deter any workaholic relapses.”

The room was silent as the other occupants digested Timoteo’s explanation.

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit you’ve ever unloaded,” Coyote was the first to break the silence. “It's a blatant lie.”

“No wonder he likes to do these things,” Timoteo commented. “I finally understand something more about you, Lorenzo...”

“You...” Coyote choked.

Iemitsu could barely cough out a word, considering every word of the Vongola Boss. Xanxus was intelligent enough not to dig his own grave twice over and remained silent.

“The best lie always begins from the truth,” Reborn commented calmly, with an undercurrent of amusement. “Xanxus was concerned for your health-“

“He was trying to kill him, Reborn!” Iemitsu yelled.

“-and removed you from your responsibilities-“

“Because he wanted the other half of the Vongola Rings!” Coyote tried to interrupt.

“-and your ailments demand that you must stay in Japan while you recover,” Reborn finished. “It's... technically true to outsiders of the Famiglia, which is the important bit.”

“...You’ve fucking lost it, old man,” Xanxus muttered. Still, no one opposed Timoteo's radical reinterpretation of the events.

“I have wisely decided to use this unexpected vacation to spend time with my remaining son, as well as forge a closer relationship with Vongola’s future,” Timoteo finished. “Regardless of whether it was caused by him, he is my son.”

“Yet while we have solved that, the solution of the mystery presented by Ietsuna rising from the dead requires more thinking,” Coyote pointed out.

“It's linked to Tsuna,” Reborn reported. “I have confidence that with observation, we can figure out the true _bond_ between Tsuna and Ietsuna, other than the common Kanji for bonds. It's not a healthy relationship.”

Timoteo's brow creased. “I don't understand, Reborn. We had agreed... you agreed to be released from the tutoring contract. I was going to find another way-”

“It's... just my instinct, Ninth,” Reborn frowned, his huge eyes never blinking. “Neither of the twins have accepted the Mafia yet, and neither of them would yield to the other. Well, Ietsuna would yield to Tsuna if asked by his twin, but Tsuna almost never intervenes to stop his brother. Iemitsu might lose custody of Tsuna because of Madame Lei. Not to mention, there is something... unsettling about Ietsuna. Ietsuna's whole self, I think, is directed to keeping Tsuna from growing up.”

“But why?” Iemitsu blankly questioned.

“Ah, it seems that more than one person in this room needs to repair his relationship with his sons,” Coyote gravely murmured. “Should I call the other guardians too?”

“B- But,” Iemitsu managed. “What about the black flame? The mysteries just keep piling and piling... it's like I don't even know my sons!”

“Yes,” Timoteo agreed in exasperation. “You don't know your sons.”

* * *

Tsuna absently noted that the blue sky stretched the span of the horizons. There was nary a cloud in sight, the sun was hiding,, and the endless blue stretched towards the horizon as blood spilled onto the ground.

“ _Mi dispiace, Decimi_...”

Tsuna blinked. The rusty liquid of life was gone, the beach as pristine as when he laid eyes upon it. No one was present.

“Are you still hanging around here? Elmo questions the state of your hearing.”

Tsuna turned around.

“Can you hear me? Elmo says to Uncle.” Elmo put a slender finger to her pink lips, seated primly with her legs tucked under her voluminous orange skirt on a flat rock. Shallow water surrounded them, clear enough to see his toes under the waves lapping on his feet. A few metres ahead, the water dropped off to a deep ultramarine. Her skirt was the only vibrant spot upon that gloomy shadow. Her feathery-looking locks fanned out, a crown of wings on either side of her head as she gazed at him.

“Can you hear me? Elmo repeats slowly,” Elmo gravely regarded the other.

“E- Elmo-chan?” Tsuna swallowed. “Erm, I'm not deaf...”

“Then that is good, Elmo replies,” the girl narrates tonelessly as her arms flexed and she stood up.

Tsuna gaped as the skies streaked with the colours of the rainbow for a brief moment. There was a flash, and he thought Elmo's dress changed to black. The waves crashed; Elmo's dress remained the colour of the warm sunrise, and the skies remained blue.

“What was... that?”

“C **lassified information**.”

“That Yet-to-Come censor is still on?!” Tsuna yelled. “A- Anyway, where are we?”

“Within the confines of this space, anything I say to you will be interpreted by your ears as **classified information** , Elmo advises, with the intent to divert Uncle towards more fruitful avenues of questioning.”

“I... see...” Tsuna shuddered as the ultramarine began to boil and soak into Elmo's formerly pristine orange dress, the blue mixing it and dyeing it into a purplish black. “Then, what can you tell me?”

“Elmo begins,” Elmo closed her eyes. “You are here. You can sense the sea, you can feel the waves and the sunlight, so Elmo offers her explanation. Is this scene real, Elmo offers to you.”

“Yes!” Tsuna paused after the exclamation. “Erm... no... I don't know...”

“Then, can you pinpoint a time in which we are talking right now?”

“No...” Tsuna shook his head. “It's a difficult question... erm, we're in 2005?”

“Yes, and no.”

“That’s the most useless answer ever!” Tsuna groaned.

“ **Classified information** ,” Elmo frowned. “Elmo is unable to relate the time as classified within your reference frame in four dimensions, Elmo apologises.”

“Right...” Tsuna swallowed. “ _Dimensions_? I'm not good with science and maths. Ie would understand it...”

Tsuna continued mumbling as the girl simply regarded the waves. Neither of them made a move, or even twitched a muscle.

It was Tsuna who caved to the oppressive silence in the end. “Erm... Elmo-chan... why do you speak like that?”

“Because Elmo is not human, Elmo states while wondering about how you manage to survive to where you are currently.”

“Oh...” Tsuna swallowed. “Would you... tell me about yourself? Something that would get through the Yet-To-Come censor?”

“We were created as weapons.”

“W- Weapons? We?” Tsuna echoed numbly.

“Yes, confirms Elmo. Elmo, and those like Elmo, are somatic cell clones, mass-produced for military use with some modifications, that use **classified information** as the original model. Elmo is the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration, the administrator of the network of sister and daughter clones that can produce and maintain up to 16,777,214 clones at maximum capacity.”

“Sorry, my brain just crashed at the sheer fantasy, please spare me,” Tsuna bowed in apology. “But... it's sad.”

A bitter smile graced her lips, eerily perfected; like a modelled doll going through robotic motions. “Elmo is not permitted to explain the details, but we are working for our Maestro. This is our purpose. Without this, none of us would have a reason to exist. To live, to work, to act, to die, for that one cause.”

“B- But! Being unable to tell anyone truly how you feel... having every word you speak controlled...” Tsuna struggled.

“We are merely dolls, who do not feel sadness or anger,” Elmo nodded as Tsuna began to fade out. “Good night, Uncle, bids Elmo with a wave of her hand.”

Tsuna blinked, staring at the ceiling boards. “...oh. It's a dream. I'm so glad.”

Back by the beach, slender fingers fiddled with orange lace that bled into black. Around her, the waves churned and frothed with an orange cast. In the horizon, the mirage of a man with spiky white hair seemed to appear, arms outstretched towards the coast and towards Elmo.

“Elmo to all points. Single target: Sacré Bleu.”

The skies returned to their celestial shade; the man washed out of the paint, erased easily from the canvas of reality.

“Light thinks it travels faster than anything, thinks Elmo. It is wrong, proclaims Elmo. No matter how fast light travels, Elmo asserts, the darkness always arrives first, and is waiting for it.”

* * *

It was two days after the post-fight celebration. The Varia mess might be under control – or rather, it was no longer his problem. Timoteo had made that very clear.

The order suited him perfectly. Yet, Reborn's eyes were stuck on the sleeping figure in one of the single beds in the twins' shared bedroom.

The twin on his left arose with the air of someone who would rather remain asleep. He yawned, and blinked in the half-darkness, as if peering through it. Reborn could sense the amber eyes sharpening at his presence, before Ietsuna stumbled out. Reborn followed the boy to the washroom – waiting outside as Ietsuna did his morning business – and then to the studio, where Ietsuna spent more time setting up and packing up than actually painting. The conceptual sketches lay around his easel as painting knives scratched the surface.

“That Lambo and his grape candy... why do I have to make so many _pentimenti_...”

Reborn stared silently as the boy fiddled with the indigo under-painting. Parts of it were riddled with scratches, texturing the highly complex cloudscape over Namimori. Orange was layered and scratched over and mixed onto the canvas with painting knives; the result resembled an impression of the scene. Fingers of purple clawed the orangey yellows, almost fading out into black and white in their contrast. A living shadow in the cloudscape was banished by the sun's presence over Namimori, fantastic and wonderful like the nights of the Mediterranean in a Vernet _chef d'œuvre_. It was strangely peaceful, and yet ominous.

“Gēgē does nice paintings!” I-Pin chirped in greeting as she walked past the atelier. “Good morning!”

“Good morning, I-Pin,” Ietsuna nodded. “Your commission is done.”

Reborn leant forward in interest as Ietsuna pulled out from his portfolio a heavy piece of A4 paper inscribed with all the Circle tiles and folded into a birthday card. “It's a present for someone else, right? I signed it with an 1827 and a tile.”

“ _Xièxiè_!” I-Pin cheered as she accepted the card. “Master happy!”

“No, he will be happy,” Ietsuna corrected, pulling out another piece. “And this is for you. Your birthday's still far away, but I think Tsuna and I would be too busy, so this is for you.”

“Sōzu?” I-Pin pointed to the green lines that made up the paper's edges, save for the centre where it was dominated by a sparrow taking flight.

“Yes,” Ietsuna nodded. “So that you'll grow up to the skies like the bamboo or rich with the coins on the Pinzu tiles, and not become like that Madao of our father.”

“What is 'Madao'? I-Pin curious.”

“Madao has many meanings,” Ietsuna began, “but for this case, it's short for: ' _maru de dame na ossan_ ' (good-for-nothing old man); ' _majide dassai oyaji_ ' (really uncool old man); ' _massa ni darusou na oyaji_ ' (really uncool-looking old man); ' _mattaku darakushite ossan_ ' (really depraved old man); ' _matomo ni dakaretakunai otoko_ ' (men no one wants to date); ' _mattaku damasenai otoboke'_ (fool who unconvincingly feigns ignorance); ' _massugu ikite no dainashi na jinsei na ojisan_ ' (old man who lives as he wants, but accomplishes nothing); and so on. Did you get it?”

“-.-'...”

Reborn sighed at the straight-up Iemitsu-bashing Ietsuna was cavalierly delivering, in a loud carrying voice. “He's definitely holding a grudge.”

Downstairs, it was joined by a loud sneeze from the man being insulted. “Someone's talking about me. Definitely.”

“Are you alright, Darling~?” Nana admonished him from the kitchen. “You shouldn't sleep with your belly exposed!”

“Ah, my sweet Nana-chan is the best, after all!” Iemitsu nodded mechanically.

It was a while before Tsuna came down for breakfast, yawning. “Good morning, everyone... is Ie here?”

“Good morning,” Bianchi looked up from eating, holding her omelette away from Lambo. Iemitsu just grunted.

“Ah, Tsu-kun is up early,” Nana smiled. “Usually it's Gokudera-kun or Bianchi-chan who's up first.”

“Today Hibari-san is negotiating with Suzuki-san at Simon Middle School for use of the spare building,” Tsuna replied. “After the... freak storm... destroyed our school, we need to find another campus quickly...”

In another world, their positions would have been switched. A freak earthquake would have driven Enma and his friends into Namimori, instead of Vongola making its presence known in Simon Town. The Simon Famiglia would have crossed paths with Tsuna and his friends either way, though. The path of destiny can seldom be truly altered.

“Kusakabe is supposed to pick you up, right?” Ietsuna commented as he walked into the kitchen. “Morning, everyone. Lambo, don't touch my omelette.”

“Who wants your stupid omelette, Ie-nii!” Lambo retorted, pointing to the foul-smelling purple mess that was designated Ietsuna's omelette. A fly flew through the purple fog, and then plummeted onto the table, dead.

“Exactly,” Ietsuna nodded, scarfing down the omelette and unwittingly trolling everyone.

“Ie... what are you eating?” Tsuna sweat-dropped as he stared at his twin.

“Bianchi's omelette.”

“...why?”

“I felt like it. Why?”

“Nothing... I'm just worried about you.”

“This kind of love won't kill me,” Ietsuna smirked as he bit through the egg, releasing a cloud of toxic fumes that killed more flies. Even the Poison Scorpion herself, who had tears in her eyes as she went on about the wonders of brotherly love. Ietsuna then turned to Iemitsu. “You want some, Dad? You keep looking at it.”

“N- No~” Iemitsu magnanimously tore his eyes away from the attempted suicide before him. “I'm not hungry at all!”

“There's plenty to go around,” Ietsuna smiled. “Or don't you want Kaa-san's cooking? Fuuta, your ranking was apparently wrong.”

“Eh?” Fuuta blinked. “But, Maman and Papa should be the number one Love-Love Married Couple.”

“But the husband of the pair won't even eat his wife's cooking,” Ietsuna theatrically sighed, taking another bite as Gokudera came down. “It's sad, the state of marriages nowadays. You're underestimating Kaa-san's love, _Dad_.”

The Smoking Bomb blinked, having snapped wide awake, and then sidled to Tsuna. “I admire Ietsuna-sama. To be able to eat Aneki's Cooking...”

“I told you to drop the -sama, Gokudera,” Ietsuna cut in. “And, if you don't start soon, you'll be late, Tsuna. Kusakabe's coming over.”

Somehow, Tsuna managed to finish before the doorbell rang, and he got to the door.

“Good morning- _Hibari_ -san?!”

[](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Claude-Joseph_Vernet_-_Nuit-_Sc%C3%A8ne_c%C3%B4te_m%C3%A9diterran%C3%A9enne_avec_les_p%C3%AAcheurs_et_les_bateaux.jpg#/media/File:Claude-Joseph_Vernet_-_Nuit-_Sc%C3%A8ne_c%C3%B4te_m%C3%A9diterran%C3%A9enne_avec_les_p%C3%AAcheurs_et_les_bateaux.jpg)  
"[Claude-Joseph Vernet - Nuit- Scène côte méditerranéenne avec les pêcheurs et les bateaux](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Claude-Joseph_Vernet_-_Nuit-_Sc%C3%A8ne_c%C3%B4te_m%C3%A9diterran%C3%A9enne_avec_les_p%C3%AAcheurs_et_les_bateaux.jpg#/media/File:Claude-Joseph_Vernet_-_Nuit-_Sc%C3%A8ne_c%C3%B4te_m%C3%A9diterran%C3%A9enne_avec_les_p%C3%AAcheurs_et_les_bateaux.jpg)" by [Claude Joseph Vernet](//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_Joseph_Vernet) \- [Colección Carmen Thyssen-Bornemisza en depósito en el Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza](http://www.museothyssen.org/thyssen/zoom_obra/1096). Licensed under Public Domain via [Wikimedia Commons](//commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/).

* * *

“Herbivore! Herbivore!” Hibird chirped as the pair left the house, leaving behind: an Iemitsu currently frothing at the mouth, and a blushing Nana cheering about her prospective son-in-law.

“Is it so surprising that I would come?” Hibari finally spoke halfway on the route from Namimori to Simon Town.

“N- Not at all!” Tsuna hurriedly dissuaded. “It's... Hibari-san usually doesn't bother with other schools, and... you don't really like Suzuki-san... and... the school is damaged because of us.”

“I got to fight you, and the tiara-wearing herbivore,” Hibari grinned, like some unknown predator anticipating his next meal. “You were surprisingly good. The tiara herbivore, though... I couldn't remember anything after seeing Namimori Middle collapse. The next thing I knew, he was a pile on the ground.”

“Bitten to death!” Hibird chirped. “Bitten to death!”

_Scary!!_ “Right...”

Tsuna winced as his ribs, which Hibari had whacked during that fight while Namimori burned, poked at him. He stopped as his collar was seized and he was dragged to face Hibari. The soles of his shoes dangled under him, and Tsuna's eyes widened as he came far too close than should be comfortable to the head of Namimori Middle's Disciplinary Committee.

“The _next_ time,” and the silky tone made Tsuna shiver, unable to look away from those steely eyes, “you will make sure to remain as part of the Disciplinary Committee. You will put down malefactors against the peace of Namimori, as the rules agree.”

“HIE! I'm sorry-...the next time?” Tsuna stopped screaming as Hibari's words sank in. “Erm, Hibari-san- I... sorry about the school... and... thank you... and...”

Hibari set him back onto his feet, watching the shorter boy fidget. “Before you are a Mafia heir, however the idea might be insane, you are part of the group that maintains Namimori's discipline.”

“Hibari-san... Hibari-san admires discipline and the rules,” Tsuna swallowed, closing his eyes. “That's why... that's why Ie and I quit to settle this. Because... if it was traced back to the Discipline Committee, Hibari-san's pride would be stained. I'm sorry, that things turned out like this... we joined as a result of a contest, so... I didn't want us to be even more of a burden. I was wrong. If there's a next time... Hibari-san would go all-out. I'll handle the clean-up. I always end up doing it anyway, but-! I'll do my best!”

One eye cracked open, and then Tsuna face-palmed as he spotted Hibari's back, the Disciplinary Committee leader having already walked ahead.

Hibari looked back. “Do you want me to princess carry you... or what?”

“Y- Yes! I'm coming!”

“Perhaps your foot is broken,” Hibari let his eye fall to trace Tsuna's pant-covered legs. The smirk that threatened to split his face in half caused Tsuna to rear back.

“I'm fine, Hibari-san!”

Tsuna was relieved to spot Shimon Middle School after the rather long hike. It seemed about the same as Namimori Middle; although, the plaza was dominated by two thirty-metre arches locked at the apex. From the apexes, a long pendulum swung freely, suspended over a brass circular tablet, into which the Simon crest had been inscribed.

“That's strange,” Tsuna commented. “Hibari-san, what do you think that is?”

“This is the school Foucault pendulum,” a female voice spoke up before Hibari could answer

Tsuna turned around. The source traced to a red-haired girl coming out of the school building beside a taller girl with a black ponytail. Both wore the Simon Middle School uniform of a black jacket and black mid-length skirt, but the redhead wore hers with black tights and black shoes, as compared to the black-haired girl's stockings and garter belts.

“Do you like it, Tsuna-nii?” she smiled, though the expression reminded Tsuna of Yamamoto before the baseball ace had relaxed under Tsuna's ministrations.

“Mami!” Tsuna beamed. “It's been a while. Well, Ie always says that you're alright, but it's good to see you! Suzuki-san, too.”

“Ah, the violent beast of discipline returns,” Adelheid started.

“My discipline is much easier to maintain than the purity you babble about,” Hibari retorted.

“Want to try?”

“The two of you, please don't fight,” Tsuna pleaded, sweating nervously.

Hibari and Adelheid scoffed upon locking eyes, and they probably would have fought if Mami hadn't sidled by to plant one hand on Adelheid's shoulder.

“W- What is this, anyway?” Tsuna waved at the device.

“A Foucault pendulum,” Mami chirped. “Named for the French physicist Léon Foucault, it's a device meant to be a simple experiment to prove the rotation of the Earth. It's part of an effort from the Science Club to promote the natural sciences.”

“So cool!” Tsuna smiled. “Ah, I forgot. Mami, this is Hibari-san.”

“Adel-nee mentioned him before,” Mami nodded with a bow. “I'm Kozato Mami, from the Simon Volleyball Club. My father is Ietsuna-san's agent. Nice to meet you.”

“I see,” was Hibari's crisp reply.

“Right now our general affairs manager is a bit occupied-” Mami stopped talking as a ruckus erupted. Adelheid's hand flew out to the side, stopping a boy with the same fiery shade of hair as her from falling onto his face. The boy wore the same uniform.

“Are you alright, Nii-sama?” Mami questioned.

“T- Thanks, Mami...”

Mami turned to Hibari, the smile that never left her face now much more relaxed. “He just arrived. We may now proceed with negotiations.”

“Enma!” Tsuna brightened. “You're the general affairs manager.”

“Y- Yes,” Enma gingerly nodded. “I'm not very good at it, and I've only just started... it's so nice to see you, Tsuna-san!”

“Same here-” Tsuna blinked as a tug on the back of his shirt saved him from planting his face on the school grounds.

“How is it that you can lose coordination at such a time...” The tug strengthened, and Tsuna was righted again.

“Oh. Thank you, Hibari-san.”

“Hn.”

“I was surprised,” Adelheid's glare deepened. “This town is continually plagued by earthquakes, and Uncle was talking about transferring the eight of us to Namimori. I suppose the freak storm that destroyed your school came at an odd time. Otherwise Uncle would have wasted so much money, and then I would have to put my plans to replace Namimori's Discipline Committee on hold.”

Surprisingly, Hibari remained silent. “...Hn. Big words for little actions.”

“Adel, fighting in front of the school would wreck it,” Enma pleaded as a pair of bladed fans appeared in her hands. “Look! He's here as a guest, right?”

“L- Let's not fight, Hibari-san!” Tsuna wailed as the tonfas came out. “This is bad- we'll wreck the school!”

“If you fight, I'll tell Daddy,” Mami smiled brightly, but the fans disappeared.

“Eh?”

“Daddy can't overpower Adel, Tsuna,” Enma explained as it looked like Tsuna was going to start on about a fighter in Simon Town being stronger than the head of Simon's Liquidation Committee. “He sure can guilt any of us if we do something wrong, though...”

“In some ways, that's an even stronger power than being good at fighting,” Tsuna agreed quietly.

“Your vice-chair and treasurer couldn't make it?” Adelheid demanded to Hibari.

“They had to assess the... damages,” Hibari's face spasmed. “We need a definite time-frame to borrow the older buildings on campus, after all.”

“I see. I thought you'd go to Kokuyo since it's closer-” Adelheid stopped as Tsuna made crossing motions with his arms behind Hibari. “Was I wrong?”

“Kokuyo is haunted by a pineapple parasite,” Hibari blandly replied. “The old carnivore was persuasive.”

“You must have it hard,” Adelheid agreed, her fist tightening. “I know what you mean. Uncle still won't let me flay that bastard.”

Mami nodded, watching by the sidelines. “I think they found something in common, Nii-sama!”

“...” Enma turned to Tsuna. “Is Ietsuna-san coming? Adel and Hibari-san can pummel him all they want if they'll lay off hunting Julie.”

“Oi, that's my twin!”

The two of them then broke out in laughter, causing the disciplinary heads to stop commiserating and give then flinty-eyed stares. Reborn watched the whole scene with a scowl and a resolution to investigate Simon Middle School. Though he had to skip out on observing Ietsuna...

* * *

“That's a lot of damage,” Verde noted from his position atop a fallen scaffold. “But of much more interest is the one minute between Reborn and Shamal, and your brother's arrival.”

Below Verde, Ietsuna scratched down a number on a clipboard. “You recorded the whole thing? In fact, your equipment worked? It was a terrible storm.”

“It would take some truly extraordinary weather to damage my reinforced equipment,” Verde shot back. “Back to the subject. In that one minute, you died... and then you were resurrected.”

“...I see.”

“Do you even realise the implications of this?!” Verde smiled; a curious one, charming if not for the worsening of Ietsuna's prospects. “Your existence proves that resurrection is, indeed, possible. The multitude of questions that arise are endless. With just you, we are one step closer to comprehending biology! To understand the study of life and life itself.”

“The ancient teachers of this science promised impossibilities, and performed nothing. The modern masters promise very little. But, these philosophers have indeed performed miracles. They penetrate into the recesses of nature, and show how she works in her hiding-places. They ascend into the heavens; they have discovered how the blood circulates, and the nature of the air we breathe. They have acquired new and almost unlimited powers; they can command the thunders of heaven, mimic the earthquake, and even mock the invisible world with its own shadows,” Ietsuna recalled in English, amber eyes set low. “Victor Frankenstein, Verde-sensei.”

“And why,” the scientist baby demanded, “would I care?”

“Oh,” Ietsuna nodded, still tallying up the damages despite the outlook translating to a complete overhaul and rebuilding of Namimori. “You're that type. The type to do anything for science.”

“Of course.”

“You do realise that societal disapproval would put a crimp on how much access to the scientific process you have, right?” Ietsuna asked. “Or perhaps that was the wrong approach. How about: don't kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?”

Verde's lips compressed. “A shame. Slicing you open would be lovely.”

“I'll let you stab me all you like,” Ietsuna offered. “You have to keep our deal, though. But I think you have other priorities at the moment.”

“Yes, the nature of the Zero Point Breakthrough,” Verde agreed. “From what I pieced together, its very nature violates the laws of thermodynamics. All of them. For one, that ice sample, and then the fight I observed... I estimated its core temperature to be zero degrees Kelvin.”

“Hold on,” Ietsuna paused in his calculation. “Let's take Xanxus as an example. The guy survived eight years frozen without a change of temperature to register, which should not be possible since it breaks Law Zero. Then, we have the ice of the Zero Point Breakthrough, which becomes a solid derived from energy. That's... tangentially possible due to matter-energy equivalence, but why is it cold? And solid? That's the first law. The Zero Point Breakthrough is cold _and_ solid, which is a violation of the second law. Finally, since Xanxus isn't turned to dust, his atoms didn't stop moving, so that's the third law.”

“It is wrong as I have said it,” Verde agrees, “and thus in some respect I must have said it wrongly.”

“Sherlock Holmes,” Ietsuna nodded at the quote. “Then... if flames are the embodiment of entropy across time, then wouldn't the Zero Point Breakthrough freeze time? Like... since there's a reverse-ageing factor involved in the curse, the freezing of the event proper would create a reversion of the body to the pre-cursed state.”

“That merits thinking, especially since we know so little about it,” Verde agreed. “It's not exactly the most outlandish theory in the world. But how would this account for-”

“Ie-nii!” Lambo's yell echoed as the tiny hitman raced to them, only to stare as he was being ignored.

“To... le... rate...!”

Ietsuna and Verde blinked as an explosion of pink smoke erupted on the site. “Oh, boy...” sighed Ietsuna.

* * *

Dreamy eyes focusing, Elmo shifted slightly, the better to watch the sacred space within which she surveyed her Maestro. Kneeling with the folds of the taffeta lace under her legs, Elmo watched the brown-haired man kneeling under the vaulted arches of wherever they were, one stair lower than the altar at the end. His hands were clasped around a rosary, almost in prayer. The voice of a chorus echoed within the sacred space, light filtered through stained glass panels painting a curtain over the hand-painted illusionary frescoes.

Quietly, a hand straightened a cow-print lapel that had just appeared in a cloud of pink smoke beside Elmo. “I was called. Did my past self disturb him?”

“No, Elmo replies to approved user Lambo Bovino,” The answer was delivered in a faint murmur, without Elmo turning her head or even giving any wordless indication. “Elmo further adds, the younger Lambo was very quiet when supplied with incentives, provided by Vongola #3EB370 in the form of grape-flavoured candy.”

“Ah, Midori, eh?” the grown hitman nodded. “She always knows what I like. But... I never thought him to be the religious type.”

“There is no religious symbol in this space, Elmo clarifies,” amber eyes hung down. “Elmo then diverts the subject of conversation towards the most important confirmation to Lambo Bovino. User **classified information** has modified the Ten-Year Bazooka to your specifications. Vongola #3EB370 holds custody of the device at present.”

Lambo's lips parted. “I see. If this... if I go through with this, I'll vanish, right?”

“That is a distinct possibility, Elmo evades the subject.”

“I see. So, why will I do this? Why should I do this?”

“Elmo is unsure what is your wish, Elmo points out her inability to read minds sourly.”

“Ah, sorry.” Lambo glanced towards the bowed head and the back exposed in prayer. It might be foolhardy of that man, but Lambo was fairly sure that nothing was capable of touching _his_ back in this sacred space, not even the Vindice. “I... I want to go back. I can go back, right? Right? You can send me there, Elmo.”

“We could, Elmo admits,” the girl nodded. “However, at this juncture, sending you back will necessarily place two of Lambo Bovino within the same time. I cannot. For the sake of this one future, I cannot.”

Lambo mulled over his words. “For the sake of this one future...”

“What future?” the conversation was interrupted.

“Maestro, Elmo greets. How was your trance?” the girl lowered her head in a gesture of respect.

“It went fine, Elmo. When did you come here, Lambo?”

“Erm... half an hour ago,” the grown hitman of the Bovino nodded. “About the future... If it’s for your dream, I will surely stretch out my hand towards the same distance as you, and stand by your side.”

“To reach for that endlessly radiant heavenly blue...” the light tenor murmured. “I never thought you'd have what it took. I wonder, if I will reach the quiet sky you believed in?”

“I-” Lambo paused. “I believe in you, Tsuna-nii. So...”

“Oh,” The man smiled. “Thank you very much. I have faith that we will save him now.”

Lambo swallowed. “Yes... Tsuna-nii.”

“What's with the pause?” the man teased.

“N- Nothing,” Lambo protested. “You just... look so much like Master, I just-”

A sniff. It sounded, to Lambo, like the prelude of whatever happened to Xanxus then.

“Shit,” Lambo muttered to himself. “Midori, cover!”

“Yes, Young Master, shouts Vongola #3EB370 as she rushes to place a Lightning-Flame barrier in place!” A girl who could be Elmo's younger twin lifted the skirts of her green taffeta dress in her rush to get to Lambo. She reached there as the shout began.

“We're... _TWINS_!!!!!” The chorus stopped with that rumbling sound like thunder. Glass cracked. The sound snapped within the curtained space, its atmosphere disrupted.

“Midori,” came the quietened reproach. Lambo sighed as the green sparks of Lightning Flames held up by Midori died down, and with it the man's sigh. “Get yourself to the infirmary and Ōtan. Stop jumping in, too. The cow boy can protect himself just fine.”

“You didn't have to do that!” Lambo shouted at him.

“Vongola #3EB370 cannot agree to that request, Vongola #3EB370 replies politely and respectfully to Maestro,” Midori bowed her head to him. “Maestro entrusted the care and safety of the Young Master to Vongola #3EB370.”

The man opened his mouth to rebut further, when another copy of Elmo appeared, this one in a lighter green dress of nearly identical cutting. “My apologies for the interruption, but Master Verde requires Maestro's immediate presence, Vongola #E4DC8A relays her given message and her apologies.”

“Verde?” Brown hair that defied gravity bobbed up and down as the man nodded, dusting his trousers from having knelt in prayer. “Thank you, Karekusa. I'll come. Sorry, Lambo. I have to attend to this.”

“See you later!” Lambo cheerfully waved as a curtain of black surrounded the girl named Karekusa and the man, and then he relaxed.

“Sorry, Midori,” Lambo sniffed, looking down to her scorched dress. “Because of me... do you have the modified Bazooka?”

“It is right here, says Vongola #3EB370 as she produces the Bazooka.” A bazooka was dropped at his feet from where the girl had pulled it out from under her skirt.

“It's _there_?! Why?!” Lambo face-palmed. “...never mind. Thanks.”

“You're welcome, #3EB370 replies to the Young Master. #3EB370 continues by explaining her doubts about the Young Master's intentions regarding the Bazooka: why did Young Master wish for this device?”

“I...” Lambo swallowed. “I cannot say it to anyone else, but... you must have known it already.”

“...Young Master? Vongola #3EB370 has suspended information upload.”

Lambo nodded once he heard the lack of narration. “Even if I lose all my strength... even if in this world, I suck at fighting, or assassination, or thinking... I _will_ save them. So... Midori, don't hold me back.”

“Vongola #3EB370 never had that sort of intention, Young Master. Can Vongola #3EB370 do anything to help you?”

“Can you...” Lambo swallowed, as if he had trouble finding the words he wanted. “Can you watch over... the one I'm sending back? It'll be tough on him, especially if he sets foot into here. He'll be scared, and alone, and crying, and it's not a guarantee... but-... if my life can be traded for a future where you and your sisters will not be needed... that would be better. I think.”

“Vongola #3EB370 will follow your order. Vongola #FF4E20 is also prepared to protect her charge, Young Master.”

“Who's #FF4E20?”

“The...” Midori paused. “She is known as Ōtan to you, Young Master.”

“Oh. Good.” Lambo hissed as pink smoke enveloped him. “Ciao.”

“Vongola #3EB370 confirms her understanding.” The girl nodded as the time-travelling hitman disappeared, kneeling to look into younger, happier bright green eyes.

A small smile graced her lips. “Welcome back, Young Master, Vongola #3EB370 warmly offers. Would you like some grape candy?”

“The green big sis!” Lambo Bovino, five years old, jabbed a finger at her, grinning. His face fell a bit. “Why is Big Sis crying?”

“I am not capable of crying, Vongola #3EB370 lies to cover the truth.”

“You're weird,” Lambo bluntly spoke back, digging into his nose. “Now, my slave, give Lambo-sama candy!”

“Yes, Young Master,” Midori passively replied. “Midori will act as you wish, always.”

* * *

 

_**1 ITA: lit. to touch one's own testicles. The Mediterranean equivalent to touching wood.** _


	25. Folio 24: Quadro riportato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the late post! Leafy ran into real-life problems and had an accident, so readers please give her your well-wishes too! - LLS

A few hours earlier in Namimori, the sun was rising as Ken awoke. He'd somehow rolled out of his futon in the middle of the night again, leaving his head in the path of the door. The smell of crêpes floating in informed Ken that Chikusa and the copy were already awake, and probably the old bird too.

The futon he folded up quickly, his muscle memory reminding him of the horrible consequences the last time the Kokuyo Gang tried to run without doing their share of the chores. Chikusa was faced with the household budget, Mukuro-san with handling the shop, Ken with general security in particular, and so many jokes about guard dogs that he'd like to punch her. He had punched her back then, in a fit of ill-advised fury. Ken yawned, dismissing the terrible memory of a blonde chignon, the old bird laughing over a burning building, and kicks strong enough to turn Mukuro-san, no need to mention him, into chunky salsa.

There was a sore digging into his lower lip; an irritant to him but not otherwise a disruption to his life like the old bird's retribution. The old bird lived away from her equally monstrous grandson, which was a small blessing since Chikusa, Mukuro-san and himself barely took down that prefect of a monster with gratuitous cheating, sending him through five floors, and explosives. They would have been regularly slaughtered if they were within the prefect's proximity, especially since it took two different towns to get the little bird – Ken's name for the old bird's grandson – away from Mukuro-san.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” the old bird murmured at him from the stove as he stumbled into the combined kitchen and dining room.

“Good morning, Ken,” the copy nodded a greeting along with Chikusa, to which Ken gave his own mumbled reply.

“We're having crepes, byon?” Ken mumbled as he plopped into a chair. This was their longest stay in a single location, at ten months and counting – even if part of that time was invested in the hospital, and Mukuro-san was sent to Vendicare.

“I thought we might as well get settled, Ken-chan,” the old bird replied, serving up a pile of the thin pancakes and a side of butter and honey. “Chikusa, Chrome, do you want jam?”

“No, thank you, Alouette-san.”

“Suit yourself. Ken-chan?”

“You're being too nice this morning, byon,” Ken snorted.

“Well, dogs must be fed often to maintain their love for their master.”

“Look, just because my name-”

The next helping of crepes flew out of Alouette's hand, and into Ken's mouth.

“-means dog, doesn't mean you can call me one,” Ken finished, still chewing the crepe. “This needs peppermint.”

“Peppermint in the morning ruins your stomach, Ken-chan,” Alouette teased, putting aside the cast-iron frying pan to cool. “Eat.”

“Is there something wrong, Alouette-san?” Chikusa asked as the older woman pushed another mountain of pancakes onto Ken. “Usually you'd be trying to pace Ken and his breakfast foods.”

“Maybe I'm finally getting around to having dog hotpot, and I'm fattening him up,” Alouette beamed as she eyed Ken. “Mukuro-chan always calls me a witch, after all.”

The blond hitman put down his crepes and backed as far as his chair would allow.

“It's a joke!” Alouette beamed at them. “Well, too bad M.M.-chan wouldn't stay-”

“Because she's terrified of you, even if you're both French,” Chikusa interjected.

“-so I just have to tell you three. Lancia already knows,” Alouette continued, steepling her fingers as her elbows made the table. “I have to go to the hospital for a while, so I'm making alternate custody arrangements for all of you until then.”

“Hospital, byon?!” Ken started.

“Hospital?” Chrome echoed in alarm. “Alouette-san, are you alright?”

“Do you require assistance?” Chikusa spoke up.

“No... however, I do need to arrange your custody,” Alouette nodded. “As you all understand, you are under the custody of the Vongola heirs, with myself as your primary caregiver after a long debate with M. Reborn. This apartment can still be used, as well as the shop below. I am... informing you of this unforeseen change. It should be temporary.”

“Oh, and I thought something happened to an old bird like you, byon,” Ken sighed. “But... why are you going to the hospital, byon?”

“It's just a mastectomy, I'll probably be back in a week.”

Ken relaxed; conversely, it was Chikusa's turn to sit up. “A... mastectomy, Alouette-san?”

“ _Oui_.”

“For... cancer?” Chikusa's phrasing had the other two swivelling to stare at the older woman again.

Alouette nodded. “Breast cancer, to be exact.”

“...how long?”

“Two days ago, right after that thing with Teo's son.” She meant Xanxus. Figures; an old bird like herself would call the Ninth's son and Boss of the Varia as 'Teo's son'.

“But the...” Chrome paused, “...prognosis is good?”

“I'll survive, if that's what you're asking, Chrome-chan,” Alouette beamed with a grin so wide that even Ken found it fake. “I'm old, anyway. I thought it'd come soon. I think Mukuro-chan would enjoy the freedom. Lord knows Kyoya would enjoy having Namimori to himself.”

“...when will you go?” was Chikusa's question.

“Erm... the day after. I'll be gone for a week.” Alouette made to stand up, and her walking stick clattered on the floor tiles with a _crack_ that made the Kokuyo Junior High Gang sit up in their chairs. The walking stick fell apart into two, a reminder of that time it was used as a weapon to brain Squalo into submission.

Chrome was making noise as she picked up the sticks, talking about wood splinters and the like. Chikusa was solicitously preparing some sugarless tar-water that was the old bird's black tea mix from China or something. The old bird herself was squawking about having no need to, fluttering about the space as her usual domineering self. Like the walking stick, though, their lives were only held together by that warped band of brass, and now, the stench of mortality was encroaching upon their peaceful lives.

Sure, the old lady made them help out in the shop, and the chemical smell of whatever colourful poisons she sold to be spattered onto canvases might itch his nose. The only really bad thing now was the regular beatings from the old bird's grandson – and the old bird herself – but that was a fact of life. He still got shelter, food and drink, and people talking to him, and he survived the beatings – which, he recalled, usually started because he tried to murder the old bird before dinner.

“Feeling your years catch up with you, witch?” Mukuro-san had taken over the copy's body, eyeing the old bird with a touch of... blankness.

“ _Bonjour_ , Mukuro-chan~ Would you like some crepes?”

“After your hospital stay, madame,” Mukuro-san clearly expressed his wished. “I'll have some then.”

This was their longest stay in a single, inhabited location, but that did not mean that Ken wanted it to end.

* * *

The revelation about Ietsuna left Reborn with rather uncomfortable feelings. Somehow, knowing that the child was dead made things worse, giving Reborn every reason for paranoia. Ietsuna hovering over his brother was like a suffocating shadow, reaching from the undiscovered country that no man – except, perhaps, Mukuro – was meant to return from now. The amber-eyed boy inspired both awe and pity; awe because he was a walking miracle, and pity of the same.

Reborn could have told Tsuna. The baby hitman could have dragged the heir aside that day in the hospital, had him acknowledge the oddity of his twin surviving Xanxus. The Varia Boss could supply a full list of the injuries he had inflicted onto Ietsuna; even Tsuna could not deny that a broken neck pretty much meant death.

"I understand, you know," Tsuna had spoken once Reborn had him cornered.

Reborn had almost sighed in relief; almost, for Tsuna added: "Ie told me to forgive you, since you were doing your job. I just... don't understand why."

It was infuriating, since it proved that the twin was ahead of him once again. It also showed Reborn a new perspective and understanding, since Tsuna must not know of the danger of having twin heirs. Or of being threatened by his brothers. Or even fighting with his brother, come to think of it. Ietsuna simply loved Tsuna too much, and Tsuna was the same.

Like Namimori and Shimon were almost the same, being sister towns. Reborn found minimal differences between Shimon Middle School and Namimori Middle School. Both bore an aesthetic between the typical grey-brown-white of concrete and brick, and graffiti art on one wall – possibly another artistic endeavour. Ietsuna's efforts had definitely taken root here, if the school mascots Shi-chan and Mon-kun that greeted all and sundry within the school yard was any indication as Reborn followed the prefect contingent about their tour.

“Koyo, you're too loud in the gym,” Adelheid commented, using her hands to physically block Mami's ears as a battle cry went up around Shimon Middle School. “Kaoru escaped first.”

“Perhaps Koyo and Kaoru got into a fight?” Mami asked lightly. "I'll be sure to purify them respectfully later before everyone."

“That's great,” Tsuna smiled and nodded, oblivious to Enma flailing – and failing – to dissuade them.

Behind Mami, Adelheid punched what looked like a green floater from one window that the disciplinary contingent of the three towns – Namimori, Shimon and Kokuyo – passed through the hallways. A feminine scream followed it down.

“What are you doing, Suzuki?” Hibari murmured.

“Adel?” Mami's curious voice cut through the hallway. “Is there something wrong?”

“Shittopi-chan was violating the height restriction for bouncing," Adel dead-panned. "She has been purified respectfully.”

 _Height restriction... for bouncing?_ thought Tsuna. _And it reaches up three storeys?_

“Oh," Mami pondered, not having noticed that most educational establishments did not require bouncing limits. “What is Shittopi-chan doing outside anyway?”

"I hope Shittopi-chan survived," Enma murmured under his breath.

"Enma...?" Tsuna questioned. "What's going on?"

"Hahaha... Mami is... a bit sensitive,” Enma explained quietly, blushing slightly. “Ever since... seven years ago, she's been insecure. We're working on it, but the frequent earthquakes... makes it difficult. Adel is extremely good at connecting to Mami-”

“Enma,” said prefect loudly called. “You can walk faster.”

“Yes!” the red-head suddenly straightened and quickened his pace. “Sorry, Adel!”

“I'm not scolding you,” the black-haired female prefect huffed.

“Hibari-san, I think this might be a nice school,” Tsuna told his own raven-haired prefect with a smile.

“Shimon has tolerable standards of peace,” Hibari stated, reluctantly being led through a hallway to another wing of the building, this one populated with classrooms.

“Ah,” Tsuna nodded. “So... double the discipline is better, I guess? We need to find a place for nine hundred students in two weeks.”

“Prefabricated buildings can only stretch so far. During this time...” and here the prefect seemed like the words took him a heroic effort, “...we need to find separate bases while we rebuild the school.”

Tsuna watched him, before a glowing smile overtook his face. “Good work, Hibari-san. You finally managed to admit needing other people even if only for a while!”

“Kokuyo would take far too much effort for too little space,” Hibari defended. “The path to Shimon might be longer and the area prone to earthquakes, but there is a dedicated bus route with _negotiable_ rates.”

“I'll ask Kusakabe-san to arrange something with the bus company right away!” Tsuna beamed at him as he took out his own phone.

“Is that Sawada Ietsuna's birthday present?”

“Yes! I was worried because I'm naturally clumsy, but the phone managed to survive an explosion.”

“Hn,” the sound managed to convey apathy and interest at the same time. “What's for lunch?”

“Hamburger steak. Please try to eat the carrots this time, Hibari-san.”

“No.”

“Hibari-san!”

The pair of them seemed oblivious – Tsuna to Hibari's face at the mention of vegetables, and the both of them to the fact that they seemed enveloped in their own little world of idol and fanboy to onlookers. Adelheid made a growl under her breath, ahead of the tour group of Mami – still talking – and Enma. “I wish they wouldn't flaunt their good relationship in our faces.”

“A- Adel?!” Enma blinked. “Erm... you're _really_ holding yourself back...”

“Those Namimori guys are acting like newly-weds moving into a house! Enma, how can you-”

“Adel? Nii-sama?” Mami had stopped walking, and with her the entire group.

“Ah... nothing,” Enma waved his hands. “Just... how exactly are we going to help our fellow students in Namimori! Yes, we were just talking about that!”

“Enma and Suzuki-san look like they share a good relationship too,” Tsuna nodded, oblivious to Adelheid suddenly inspecting the hallway ceiling or Hibari's snort.

“They do, right?” Mami bounced towards him, jabbering without letting the other get a word in. “Adel looks like the _tsun_ - _tsun_ type, but she's actually quite _dere-dere_ to Nii-sama! Nii-sama tries to be stronger in front of Adel, and Adel is softer in front of Nii-sama! Don't you think they compliment each other, Sawada-san?!”

“Your pet is being left behind,” Adelheid commented as the group managed to move, with Tsuna still caught by the talking geyser of gossip that was Mami Kozato.

“So is your little animal, herbivore,” Hibari jabbed a thumb back to where Enma was reluctantly following along.

"This is under the jurisdiction of the Liquidation Committee, you stain," Adelheid retorted. "We're still whipping him into shape."

“While you're doing so, you're clearly paying more attention to Mami Kozato.”

“...” Adelheid stopped walking. “You're not referring to her as a herbivore.”

“Oh?” Hibari smirked, looking towards where an obliviously babbling Mami was walking towards the school gates. “How strange. Her fangs are clearly more polished than...”

“Don't you dare, Hibari,” Adel snarled as a familiar light dawned. “If you touch Mami-”

“I cannot be held back by your logic. I will do as I wish.”

“Ah...” Tsuna shivered at the back of the group. “Are we... being watched? No, Hibari-san is picking a fight...”

Up in a tree, Reborn sighed, and looked at a Leon-portable TV which showed Ietsuna facing off against Adult Lambo. It was a pity that Reborn's minions had given Ietsuna a wide berth before the cow-brat came in. “That Hyper Intuition is really something. If only Tsuna would get a clue about how destructive his brother's protection really is, no matter the intention. That's... the Simon Famiglia. I heard that they had a monster from Dino. I guess the lower orders have their own surprises as well.”

“Not on campus, please,” Enma pleaded, starting to jog towards the two head prefects. “Mami!”

“Nii-sama- Ara, why are you trailing back?” Mami turned around, blinking, with a smile on her face that looked as brittle as Bianchi's spun cotton candy - hard enough to match cutting pasta noodles and still look soft. “We still have the school grounds to tour- Nii-sama!”

Several things happened: Adelheid drew two bladed fans from under her skirt and parried a blow from Hibari, Tsuna tried to intervene bodily, and a lasso looped around Enma, dragging him into a bright red sports car that drove off.

Or, rather, _tried_ to.

Inside the car, Enma blinked. “Yo,” Dino smiled in answer. “Sorry for the abrupt invitation.”

“...Please settle the bill yourselves,” Enma stated calmly after looking around himself.

“You're pretty seasoned for a kidnapping victim,” Dino remarked. “Of course I will.”

“No... I meant, for the car, the urban destruction about to ensue, and your own hospitalisation bills,” Enma clarified with the awkward expression of apologising for a younger sibling. “If you wish, I know a good insurance agent.”

“B- B- Boss...!” Romario squawked from the driver's seat. “It's high...”

“What's wrong, Romario?” Dino blinked, rolling down the tinted window to see that the view had elevated somewhat. “Was the car always this high? And, why did we stop?”

“The wheels aren't on the ground, Boss,” Romario swallowed. “It's being _lifted_!”

Dropping a card into Dino's lap, Enma then pulled the car lock, opened the door, and hopped out with ahuff of effort. Slamming the door, he made his way to the roadside, and spotted the Namimori delegates staring at the scene of Mami lifting a car above her head and the large ringlets of her hair. The wheels of Dino's car spun aimlessly, as the Mafiosi within scrambled to stay inside and away from Mami Kozato.

The groan of the engine failed to drown her ominously quiet words.

“Cars of this width are illegal to drive in a school zone,” Mami spoke as the accelerator increased in sound. “However, they're perfect for your last ride into the ground. And for beating Julie's head in, if he arranged this.”

_I bet Reborn arranged this... but she's blaming someone else already... with that car still above her head and it was definitely moving... that's... definitely not normal... right?_

“Julie definitely arranged this, right?” Mami continued, almost talking to herself. “You're stupid enough to follow him, right? So... you have no problem with what happens to you, right~?! _I'll bury him with you!_ ”

_...Who's Julie? I pity him..._

Mechanically, Tsuna turned to Enma. “...w- what... is that?”

“That's Mami's fighting technique,” Enma informed him. “The Heiwajima, where she takes the heaviest thing on hand, and smashes the closest rule-breaker with it under the power of her own rage. Its full name: Heiwajima Shizuko.”1

“That's not the point... not exactly... but when did Mami...” Tsuna began flailing as people fell out of the car. “It's a car... _Dino_ - _sempai_?!”

“We just wanted to talk to the Simon Tenth!” Dino clutched at the car door. “Help!”

“Ah... wait, what?” Tsuna did a double-take. “E- Enma-? You're... Mafia?”

“...you didn't ask.” Enma shrunk in on himself.

"Enma, not now," Adelheid sighed, and turned on one heel to face Hibari, the only person not currently freaking out. “If Mami liquidises them, it'll be troublesome. We'll have to intervene.”

“Agreed. They are disrupting the peace, especially with such parlour tricks,” There was a snort. “I'll take the horse herbivore.”

“Agreed. I'll handle Mami when she flings the car.”

“Flings the- I see.” Hibari's cobalt eyes tracked the vehicle as it soared through the air and into a – thankfully empty – public playground. “Horses are dumb.”

“Hello? I'd like to take out three extra policies for severe trauma-” Dino's words echoed the scream of the car's wheels rending from under its own weight and crashing.

“JULIE! I'LL KILL YOU!!!” Mami hollered at a bespectacled blond with a goatee passing by. The blond student did a double take, and started running away as Mami uprooted a street sign like plucking a flower. With a war cry, the street sign flew like a javelin and embedded itself into the concrete, narrowly missing the student running for his life.

Viewing the scene through Leon-binoculars, Reborn paused to wipe his eyes from the stray dust kicked up in the wake of the car's landing. “That's... not a middle school student. That's not even human.”

Ignoring Julie for the moment, the slender girl who was possibly as sturdy as a giant robot now advanced into the playground's smoking remains. “You're trying to kidnap Nii-sama... aren't you?”

In the distance, Dino watched a cloud of dust kick up where the street sign had forcibly planted itself by sheer kinetic force. Then his gaze lifted, towards the floating car and its red-headed wielder swinging it like a club with its bumper. “That's... a monster...”

“Mami! Stop!” Enma called, rushing to block her bodily by standing before her and the cherry-red sports car she wielded.

“They broke the rules first, Nii-sama,” Mami stated in confusion, the car lightly held to be brought down to an extreme one-tonne of prejudice. “I'm just doing the same for them.”

“Well... cars belong on the road, so that's against the rules,” Enma quickly improvised as the back bumper fell off and landed into the sandbox with a muffled thud. “That means _all_ of the car. You can't leave the bumper behind. Or use it on him. I'm sure...”

“Dino,” Dino quickly replied at the meaningful glance aimed his way. He would have lied, but the threat of death by Maserati stayed his hand.

“...Dino-san truly regrets his actions,” Enma smoothly continued. “So... er... Mami? Put the car down, please.”

“Who sent you?” Mami shot a sour glare towards Dino, but let go of the car. Dust kicked up in its wake as she simply dropped it, the crash of steel and Plexiglass a stark reminder that she could use it to beat him over the head.

“Erm... Reborn?” Dino cringed as a wheel fell off under the stress on its axle.

Adelheid's face showed alertness, Enma sighed in resignation, and Mami continued smiling. Tsuna simply face-palmed.

“And what does this Reborn want with us?” Mami smiled as she ripped off a door from the Maserati and Dino let out a squeak. “You see, like my name, I consider the truth beautiful2. So if you tell me the truth right now, I _won't_ turn you into an ugly pile of meat right here.”

“Mami... she had that sort of strength all along?!” Tsuna freaked. “Dino-sempai!”

“Tsuna... you know him?”

“He's my... senior? We have- had the same tutor...” Tsuna paused. “It's complicated. He's probably leaving after giving up on us. Anyway, Enma! I'm sure Dino-sempai was pressured to do this! Dino-sempai doesn't kidnap people for no reason!”

“I see,” Hibari commented. “That fake disciplinarian and the little badger keep guarding that girl for some reason. They crowded to hide _that_ presence from the herd of herbivores in the school, lest the herbivores panicked and ran.”

“H- Hibari-san? What do you mean?” Tsuna looked at him.

“That girl is neither herbivore nor carnivore,” Hibari answered. “That is simply a wild animal.”

“Someone that even the combat-manic Hibari-san considers a wild animal... you mean, she just fights with brute force?” Tsuna wondered. “With that kind of strength...”

“Mami,” Enma persuaded. “Maybe you can, erm, put the door down...”

“I will crush him, Nii-sama, so please wait.”

“W- Wait! Stop! No crushing!” Enma flailed, physically intersecting himself between the steel door and Dino's form. “M- Medicine! You need to take your medicine, Mami!”

“But this man is a threat to Nii-sama first. The man behind him has a gun, Nii-sama.”

“If he shoots,” Enma reminded her. “Ah, we should go to the infirmary!”

“But the man is still here, Nii-sama,” Mami's smile turned brittle as she edged her brother, or tried to gently push past him. “I'll crush him first, alright~?”

“Adel, please!” Enma's yell was like a war cry as he tackled his sister down and held her hands flat.

“I know!” Adelheid primed a syringe, leaping into the fray to inject the clear liquid within into the struggling girl before dropping the needle in favour of a bear hug on Mami. Despite several ominous _cracks_ , Mami's struggles slowly ceased and the chanting of kills segued into a half-snort. Adel stiffly let Mami fall back into Enma's arms, wincing as she clutched her own. “Ow.”

“Your arms, Adel?” Enma asked, looking up to Adelheid. “Are you alright?! We need a doctor! Doctor! An ambulance!”

“Radius bone fracture in the left arm,” Adelheid relayed. “I'm fine, Enma. My apologies, Hibari. I should have stepped in before Mami went berserk.”

“There is no discipline here,” Hibari glared at a wilting Dino on the ground. “Well, there is no discipline in horses, either. Nowadays, horses know how to ignore people, huh?”

“Ah, Tsuna, Kyoya!” Dino exclaimed as the two Shimon members turned on to him. “Maybe you can help me explain to these nice people... Reborn made me! He said that it would draw out the monster of Simon...”

“Who is a monster?” Enma glared at Dino with a surprising amount of venom. Mami was taken by Tsuna as the older Kozato stalked over to glare at Dino, but was physically blocked by Hibari.

“For attempted kidnapping of students, you will be bitten to death,” Hibari drew both tonfas and proceeded to beat Dino to within an inch of his life.

Revenge unfed, Enma turned on one heel and walked back towards Tsuna and Mami.

“Sorry, Enma,” Tsuna apologetically motioned, Mami still being held by him. “Dino-sempai was coerced...”

“No, I should... be the one apologising,” Enma shrunk slightly as the situation sunk in. “I left my sister with you so selfishly...”

“No, it's completely understandable. I'd feel angry for Ie's sake if anyone called him a monster. Please don't hold it against Dino-sempai though... erm, are Mami's fingers supposed to bend like this?”

“Ah!!!” Enma exclaimed, the first signs of panic appearing.

“Enma! Calm down!”

The memory of a flame kindling life into a breathless body caused Reborn to look away and down, towards the illogical girl and her worried brother now confronting the Chiavarone Boss. “An otherworldly strength controlled by a guardian... so this is the monster of the Simon Famiglia-”

Leon transformed into a cellphone, which started vibrating.

“...that was a good moment...” Reborn glared at the screen. “...Fon? Why is he calling?”

* * *

It was in a comforting wood kitchen that Ietsuna set down his tea cup and saucer with more force than necessary on the tabletop. “You know... I understand Skull-san and Mammon-san since they slept over... but when did _you_ start to visit them, Verde-sensei?”

“Ah, Skull-san brought Verde-san over, Ietsuna-kun,” Kozato Makoto warmly explained to the adult-form Skull and Ietsuna. “It was a bit hard to establish a common ground, but we managed to talk about art and its relationship to science.”

“I was even more surprised that they managed to talk at all,” Skull directed to Ietsuna in a stage-whisper. His helmet lay on the table, baring his pierced and tattooed face to the room. Surprisingly, Makoto had showed no sign of disgust or disapproval, simply asking Skull about the pain involved. That had been the start of Skull's regular visits.

“I'm surprised too... miracles do happen,” Ietsuna slowly nodded in awe. “I respect you even more, Kozato-san, to connect to this _denpa_ -san!3”

“Why do you speak like I can't make acquaintances and small talk?” Verde demanded in irritation.

“Well, well,” Makoto raised his big hands in a gesture of surrender. “It takes a bit to get used to Ietsuna-kun. Skull-san too. If I gave you each a cookie, would you stop fighting?”

“If I accepted the cookie, would you treat us as adults?” Verde demanded back in turn.

“I'll treat you like adults whenever,” Makoto laughed, “but there's always room to be a child. Verde-san likes the _matcha_ cookies, right?”

“They are acceptable. The green tea's light colouring shows up easily if oxidised in the presence of poisons-”

“Verde-san, I can just open a new packet for you. There's no need to badmouth people,” Makoto retorted. “We're just waiting for the people from Ciel Art Supplies to come over, so please, make yourself at home.”

“Why is Maître involved?” Ietsuna blinked.

“Er...” Makoto apparently found his kitchen ceiling extremely interesting. “...because I'm arranging an art exhibition in France and I need a demonstration artist so-”

“No.”

“Ietsuna-kun, please give your primary seller some face and go to France!” Makoto begged. “I'll even pay for the ticket and lodgings!”

“Kozato-san, an international art dealer like you, who specialises in old paintings with a minimum two-century bracket doesn't need a young Japanese artist,” Ietsuna pointed out. “You just can't find any French speakers, right?”

“Ah, the old lady needed to go to hospital suddenly,” Makoto confessed. “Well, I understand, because Mamie – I mean, my wife – has her own personal reasons too... I'm powerless to change that.”

“I see...” Ietsuna turned contemplative. “It's real.”

“Hmm? What is?” Makoto asked.

“It's... just a feeling,” Ietsuna answered with a worried frown, waving to his eyes. “How do I say it... ah! Her eyes became yellowed!”

“I suppose your artist's eye for detail allowed you to pick up on that,” Verde commented. “The term is conjunctival icterus, and it can indicate a host of diseases.”

“Diseases?! Whoa!” Skull pumped his fist. “You have a good talent, Ietsuna-san!”

“Is she alright...” Ietsuna pondered as the door opened.

“We're back, Papa,” Enma's voice trailed in. “Mami got tired, we're putting her in her room first.”

“We're sorry to interrupt!”

Ietsuna sat up at the new voice. “Tsuna?!”

“Ie?! Why are you here?!”

A variety of expressions passed through Ietsuna's face at that moment. Panic – _oh shit if Reborn finds out –_ then to contemplation – _what happens if Reborn finds out? He doesn't care about me –_ and to grim worry _– but he'll try to increase surveillance, and we have to investigate the curse –_ and then to more thinking _– but Tsuna never met their adult forms..._

“Skull, lie,” Verde snapped out some advice. “Reborn will hijack our research given half a chance or even the whiff of our presence.”

“S- Sempai! Thanks,” Skull hissed back.

“It's for our research,” Verde muttered. “Don't thank me yet. I may dissect you.”

“Oh, you have guests,” Enma peeked into the kitchen, which was thankfully shielded from the entrance hall and the staircase. A carmine ringlet over his shoulder revealed Mami, sleeping on her brother's piggyback hold. “Ietsuna-san, Skull-san, Verde-san, hello. I'll just bring Mami up to sleep.”

Verde and Skull exchanged looks, face-palmed together, and waved hello to Enma silently. _What kind of hitmen are we, we gave our true names so easily,_ their identical expressions revealed.

“Is Mami alright?” Makoto stood up, concern written on his face.

“It's alright, Papa. It's... the usual. The playground.”

“And the others? Adel?”

“We are fine, uncle,” Adelheid reported. “There were simply a few misunderstandings. Though... the playground did suffer some damage.”

“Alright. As long as none of you are hurt... even Julie?”

“Julie gets whatever he deserves.”

“-.-'...” Makoto clearly doubted that bit, but remained silent in the interest of glancing over his daughter, son, and adopted child. “Adel...”

“Yo, Enma,” Ietsuna waved. “Do you need help? What happened to Mami?”

“No, we'll be fine, especially with Tsuna and Hibari-san-” Enma was broken off as a commotion started raging outside. A window broke and a shade of green and navy tumbled in.

“Mukuro! Why are _you_ here?!” Ietsuna demanded as the Kokuyo Gang leader swept shards of glass from his sleeves with his usual sangfroid. Behind him, Hibari was climbing in through the window, his murderous intent bleeding through.

“What,” the phthalo-haired boy sneered. “Is this how you treat all of your guests?”

“Guest?” Makoto echoed. “Ah! Madame Lei did say that she had a representative... but that he wore glasses. Are you...?”

“Rokudo Mukuro, in representative of Ciel Art Supplies,” Mukuro smirked towards the seething skylark. “Chikusa is unable to come, so I have arrived in his stead.”

“...you mean, _you_ wanted to come,” Ietsuna retorted.

“Shut up, Sawada Ietsuna.”

“Well, at least the old lady is doing well if she sent such an exciting boy along,” Makoto physically intervened, in his ignorance of the danger suddenly posed to everyone else when blocking the Cloud and the Mist. “You must be Madame Lei's grandson. Hibari, right? Would you like something to drink, Rokudo-san? Hibari-san?”

In the ensuing stare-off, Enma and Tsuna just rolled their eyes and slowly mounted the stairs, a sleeping younger sister on Enma's back. It left the unenviable task of preventing damage to Makoto instead.

Surprisingly, he survived. Even more miraculously, the Kozato house survived. Makoto was apologetically bowing to Verde, Skull, Hibari and Mukuro within five minutes at the front gate of the tiny bungalow. “My apologies for the sudden dismissal, but I have to see to my daughters. Next time will hopefully be better.”

“We understand, Kozato-san,” Verde inclined his head.

“ _Ciao,_ Signor,” Mukuro grinned back. The respect accorded to the Kozato father had exponentially increased, when the man had waded in between the skylark and himself to bodily stop the fight with a kettle.

“I never would have thought that the Simon Famiglia would make an alliance with two of the Arcobaleno,” Mukuro mused once no one else was within earshot. “Especially the infamous Verde.”

“I never would have thought that the infamous Rokudo Mukuro would be reduced to an old woman's errand boy,” Verde retorted. “Even if the old woman is the Mauviette.”

Mukuro smirked. He just smirked; there was no witty reply, only a smirk and a pair of empty mismatched eyes. “She is our contact. It would be troubling if Ken and Chikusa had to leave along with my darling Chrome simply because the old witch had a medically disruptive cellular aberration.”

“Medically disruptive?” Verde produced his cellphone in a gesture of insouciance. Under a certain light, they could be simply having a conversation. “Hmm... oh.”

“Verde-sempai?” Skull poked the scientist, but Verde made no reply. Verde's phone vibrated in a tiny hand. “Verde-sempai~”

The phone stopped ringing. “Perfect, now it'll stop...”

A loud bass rang, and Skull started as he pulled out his own. “Who is calling me now?”

“The Carcassa?” Verde suggested.

“No, not after that mess in Mafia Land...” Skull apprehensively blinked at his cheap burner phone, and then stepped aside. “Excuse me.”

Mukuro would have made a comment about cellphone etiquette. He would have, if Skull hadn't immediately dropped the phone after receiving the call and saying hello. The phone dropped, and the tinny voice was loud enough to be heard even across the street.

“ _-find Verde, it's an emergency. Skull?_ Wèi? Wèi?! Wèi?!!”

“Is there something wrong with your cellphone, Skull?” Verde commented. “It looks like-”

“Diu nei, puk gaai aah! _4_ ” A dial tone punctuated the sudden silence.

Mukuro let out a snort as Verde gaped. Hibari just stared at the cellphone with an unreadable expression.

“Fon-sempai... just- did Fon-sempai just... _curse_?!” Skull shrieked as Verde's cellphone went off again.

The genius Arcobaleno sighed, opened his cellphone well away from his ear, and hit the green button. “Verde speaking. Make it fast.”

“ _V- Verde? Ah, it's Fēng- I mean, Fon. Have you made any headway with_ _cancer treatments?_ ”

“No. Why?”

“ _How about_ _changing us back? Even a temporary cure?_ _I_ _'_ _ll owe you._ _Please, tell me that_ _your crazy scientist antics have achieved something-_ ”

“Fon, I can't believe I'm about to tell you this, but calm down!” Verde took a breath as his cellphone was taken. “Hey-”

“I'll bite you to death if you continue to make a ruckus.” Hibari's words inspired awe, everyone staring at the man currently challenging death by kicks and punches strong enough to break steel.

“ _..._ _Kyoya? How did you- oh._ _Did_ _Yǔ_ _called Verde in?_ ”

“I neither know nor care. Call when you're in town.” Hibari then pressed the red button and handed the phone back to Verde.

“What was... that?” Verde blinked. “What kind of twisted change is this? What kind of event would cause _Fon_ to curse?”

* * *

_**1 This is a play on Heiwajima Shizuo – a Durarara!!! reference! – and the Japanese word for 'girl'.** _

2  _ **Mami can be written as 'truth' and 'beautiful'**_ _ **(**_ _ **真美**_ _ **)**_ _ **, although the Reborn Wiki simply wrote her name in hiragana**_ _ **(**_ _ **まみ**_ _ **)**_ _ **.**_

_**3 Denpa (** _ _**電波** _ _**?), also denpa-kei (** _ _**電波系** _ _**?) or denpa-san (** _ _**電波さん** _ _**?), is a Japanese term for individuals who are disconnected or disassociated from the people around them.** _

_**4 Cantonese: roughly “Fuck you, drop dead!”** _


	26. Folio 25: Sinopia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for the delay, I got down with the flu on my 21st birthday~ And Leafy had an accident as well. On that note, I'd like to announce that I'm participating in July's Camp NaNoWriMo to draft a possible sequel for Dioscuri centred around Box Weapons. So updates for July might be a bit slow in coming! - LLS

Whispers followed the flame-haired goddess in paint-covered overalls as she walked the hallways of the Vongola Famiglia's Iron Fort, ten years into the future.

“ _That face is too similar to Boss...”_

“ _Pretty, isn't she? Think she's up for some company?”_

“ _That's the Boss's ward. After what happened to his brother... he'll burn you to death, Chicory.”_

How much she had heard, or even paid attention to, was not in question. It was never in question. Elmo did not have the luxury of relaxation even as she slipped into the room covered in green baize and filled with bookshelves. A hearth dominated the room, and seated by the burning fire was the person she was looking for.

“I assert that this is stupid, Elmo declares to Maestro,” Elmo crossed her arms under her breasts. “That Xanxus keeps giving me suspicious looks. He will find out.”

The tuft of gravity-defying soft brown hair dyed in the sunlight tilted up, amber eyes studying Elmo dressed in paint-flecked coveralls. “Careful. You're Amaya Asari now. About Xanxus, though... that fine instinct made me decide to tell him about Box Weapon #343 in the future.”

“No one's around, Elmo assures.”

“Walls have ears, Amaya. As the adopted daughter of the Vongola Decimi for two years and running, please act with proper decorum.”

“...as you wish,” the girl smoothed back the twin tufts of hair that flared out from her temples with her hands. “You have commanded complete radio silence so far, but I believe the situation warrants this emergency.”

“...fine. Sit-rep.”

“#3EB370 has been acting oddly,” Elmo relayed. “This aberrant behaviour could be in relation to the young master Lambo.”

“Midori, you mean? There is nothing surprising,” came the conclusion. “Lambo is her charge after all.”

“She has been visiting #FF4E20. As they are both part of the Big Seven, I am worried that they might sortie and abuse our powers to ruin your plans.”

Amber eyes snapped to her. “Big... Seven?”

“N- No, nothing, Elmo tries to divert the subject.” Elmo suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.

“You guys... don't tell me you used the VPN to play KanColle.”

“I won't tell you we used the VPN to play Kantai Collection,” Elmo paused. “It was **classified information**. Please forget everything I just said.”

“I'm going to kill him,” muttered the other. “...what's your main fleet?”

“Erm...” Elmo closed her eyes. “Ise, Fubuki, Souryuu, Goya, Ooi and Kitakami...”

“Souryuu, eh...?” came the comment. “That's quite an efficient fleet.”

“Could it be... Maestro plays as well?”

“...shut up. Do whatever you want.”

Elmo grinned as he flipped another page. “We want Maestro to be happy, since you look happy when you take care of approved user group Vongola X. Amaya will leave you to yourself now, Amaya is busy~!”

“Happy...?” he pondered as Elmo, or Asari Amaya, left him alone. “I've... never felt happy at the world. Not for two years. Soon...”

Silence reigned as another page turned before the fluffy hair bounced up again. Amber eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Wait. Why is she busy? I'm not deploying anyone yet...”

Running through the hallways, Elmo giggled. “#FF4E20, weigh anchor! Set course for Common Era two thousand and five!”

“Vongola #FF4E20, docking and restock complete,” the girl with hair like wings on either side of her head, and eyes that burned with deadly fire declared as she stepped onto a floating platform. Her orange taffeta dress stretched to her knees, almost like a bell. “Everyone, are you ready for the sortie~?”

* * *

_T_ _his is really awkward,_ was Squalo's first thought.

“Alouette is moving into the hospital, so we're leaving,” Timoteo sounded far too cheerful to be the same old man who had cried in front of some grave earlier in the morning. “Yes, Squalo?”

“I understand, Ninth... but, why are you dragging us along on your hot springs trip?!” Squalo thumped the solid steel door of the car currently ferrying Timoteo, Coyote, Squalo and Xanxus. “This is really awkward! You old fogeys might not feel it, but I do!”

“Shut up, shark-trash,” Xanxus mutinously glared. “It's a job. It's a job. It's a job.”

“Are you telling yourself that to avoid the awkwardness of the situation, Xanxus?” Reborn, perched on Timoteo's knee, looked at him. “You said that three times.”

“... why did you call us? It's not for the Rings, right, since you handed them to the brat and the baby trash is here,” Xanxus changed the subject.

“This is why being a Boss is awkward when it clashes with being a father,” Timoteo mused. “I visited Alouette in hospital.”

“The _Mauviette_?” Coyote asked. “ You didn't get hit?”

“Yes,” Timoteo agreed. “That invincible monster, Alouette Lei, has cancer. I was surprised. I was sad. And so, I realised that I will die. So I will not leave any regrets.”

X anxus waved his hand, his body having been fixed using Sun flames. “ And then?”

“VOI! Are you listening, shitty Boss!” Squalo complained. “This Boss has no sensitivity... this is supposed to be some feel-good vacation! That's why we left the rest of them in Namimori!”

“Wave that again, and I'll put it through your skull,” Xanxus lowly threatened as Squalo's sword came that much closer to impaling his thigh.

“Are you sure about this?” Reborn looked to the Ninth.

T imoteo just chuckled to himself. “ The young ones still have much to go.  The Rings would be fine,  and  we need to  reconsider  _i gemelli Decimi_ .  Coyote, what's today's snack?”

“How long more are you going to play the idiot,” Coyote sighed, pulling out a Tupperware container. “It's madeleines.”

“Madeleines...” Timoteo echoed, lifting up the yellow shell-shaped cake. “Lorenzo used to make them.”

“I miss the madeleines he would make,” Alouette sighed dreamily as she bit into one. “ _Vive la madeleine!_ ”

“Alouette-san,” Chrome beamed, “you look well.”

“ _Que sera sera_ ,” Alouette dismissed as a red-haired nurse walked up to them, a vase of flowers that looked like purple flowers in hand.

“Lei-san, you know you can't eat during chemotherapy,” the nurse scolded as she set the flowers by the bedside table. “You'll throw up.”

“Again...” Alouette wilted slightly. “Ah, Chrome-chan! This is my nurse, Mamie Kozato. Kozato-san, this is my ward, Chrome Dokuro.”

“She's quite pretty and faithful,” the nurse agreed, injecting the contents of the syringe into the machine Alouette was currently attached to. “Be careful, or she'll be stolen away in the blink of an eye.”

Alouette beamed, which  contained  the promise of  sure and immediate violence as she glowered at the vase. “ I didn't know that  monkshood1 was  the fashion nowadays.”

“Ah, Alouette-san...” Chrome stared at the blue rocket flowers in dawning understanding. “It's not. They're out of season.”

* * *

Back in the Kozato house,  Ietsuna glanced up at shouting that seemed to drift in from outside.  “ Why are they making a ruckus outside?”

“That doesn't matter. What about Mami, Uncle?” Adelheid demanded. Her hands were held out before her, tied into splints by a weary-looking Makoto in the kitchen. “She broke her fingers without noticing the car.”

“I am sure Mami is much better than yourself, Adel,” Makoto answered. “You are strong, but I can't help but worry about you. You shouldn't be hurt trying to restrain Mami.”

“Uncle...” Adel made a token protest. “...no one else can. And... I won't let Enma try.”

“Adel-”

“What's up with Mami?” Ietsuna frowned. “She was normal the first few times.”

“Mami...” Makoto glanced between Adelheid's hands and Ietsuna. “Ah, you don't really... well, see her. Mami is... well, you know what happened that time, but... Her episodes really started in middle school. She's cute, smart, and athletic... and she loves Enma a lot. My son... is quiet. The shy type. They called him... they called him... 'Loser Enma'. In front of Mami. That was... well, it was the first time the school called me about a flying vending machine.”

“Ah...” Ietsuna tonelessly made a noise. For once, the amber-eyed twin was at a loss for words. “Flying. Vending. Machine?”

“She calls is the Heiwajima,” Adelheid relayed.

“That's... appropriate.”

“Heiwajima Shizuko,” Adelheid added.

“That doesn't make it better,” Ietsuna retorted. “Flying vending machines... should I expect a magical fairy that rides around and saves people soon?”

“No, but...” Makoto swallowed. “You have questions.”

“... _How_?” Ietsuna gestured. “That's a good start.”

“That one...” Makoto swallowed. “We're actually part of a Mafia family.”

“That... explains a lot, actually,” Ietsuna nodded, contrary to Makoto's expectations. “So are we. Which one?”

“Simon. The Boss is...” Makoto swallowed. “...Enma. For... various reasons.”

“Oh. We're Vongola,” Ietsuna nodded in the silence that ensued. “I thought you'd be the Boss, Kozato-san. You're much... calmer.”

“He doesn't want to talk about it,” Adelheid spoke up.

“It's alright, Adel, thank you,” Makoto nodded. “You know what is a Dying Will Flame, yes? The requirements are that the Boss of the Famiglia must be able to use it to fight. I... cannot.”

U pstairs in the cream-coloured  bed room that was Enma's,  Tsuna exclaimed in surprise after setting Mami down in the neighbouring room before going to find a first-aid kit.  “Kozato-san has a bad heart?”

Enma nodded in acknowledgement by the window, pushing aside a pair of volumes of _Relativity: The Special and the General Theory_ littered with Post-It notes on the ledge. Outside, the setting sun's rays painted his hair a fiery Titian.

“Papa's heart condition won't allow him to fight,” Enma related. “As much as he wants to, his body can't take the strain of the Dying Will Flame. Even if tradition dictates it, in a family as small as the Simon, exceptions must be made. It comes down to myself... and Mami...”

“That... that's...” Tsuna pondered. “Wait. Mami? You... you do know that's... dangerous, right?”

“No one's decided yet,” Enma answered, extracting. “Mami is... strong. Overwhelmingly so. But... that strength is because she's scared, and she's lashing out.”

“Is it...” Tsuna paused. “We... about... seven years ago?”

“...yeah,” Enma nodded. “T- Tsuna-san... our whole family is grateful to the two of you. Please don't get me wrong. It's just... we would have died. We survived, but... it sucks. I want to protect Mami and everyone, but... I can't protect her from her nightmares.”

“I think... I think you're doing really well, Enma!” Tsuna insisted. “I... I think you're a great big brother! And, Mami must love you a lot!”

Enma blushed slightly. “It's... alright...”

“Nii-sama?!” came the plaintive wail. “I can't feel my hand...!”

“I'm coming, Mami!” Enma called, entering her room.

“Tsuna? We need to go home now,” Ietsuna's voice drifted up.

“Eh?!” Tsuna clambered down the stairs with a grip on the banisters. “But, Ie...”

“Don't disturb other people's rest, Sawada,” Adelheid commented. “You're visiting again tomorrow anyway.”

“Tomorrow?!”

“Did you forget that Namimori and Shimon are sister towns, Sawada?” Adelheid continued.

“Y- Yes! Thank you very much, Suzuki-san-!”

“Oh, it's noisy at home today in the end!” A louder proclamation interrupted Tsuna's yelling.

“We're... back...” another voice echoed.

“Sorry, Uncle...” A third voice joined in, deeper than the other two.

“Don't worry, boys~!” A high-pitched feminine voice chipped in some English words.

“Oh, welcome back,” Makoto smiled at the assortment of colourful and stoic personalities in the form of a bespectacled green-haired boy, a blond dressed like a hooligan, a girl with her crown shaved save for her extended bangs and wearing sunglasses and floaters, and a tall stocky mountain of a blond. All four of them wore the Shimon Middle School uniform in various states of dishabille. “Tsuna-kun, Ietsuna-kun, these are my children. Aoba Koyo, Mizuno Kaoru, Ooyama Rauji, P. Shitt – you can call her Shittopi-chan... Julie found another date?”

The blond hooligan dropped a terrified goatee-d boy with a fedora before them. “We brought him back for dinner.”

“And that's Katou Julie. Well, since you're all back, I think it'd be a good time to start!” Makoto beamed, oblivious to Julie's glare. “Mamie said that she'll be late for dinner. Come help out.”

“Oi, old man, I'll-”

“Julie came back?”

The bespectacled boy, Julie, swallowed as he slowly turned around to see Mami, cradling a Newton's cradle in bandaged hands. It looked rather heavy, especially in her bandaged hands.

“Welcome back,” Mami's greeting sounded like the dirge of someone's funeral. “I came to give you your last gift, Julie~”

“Save me!” Julie shrieked.

“In the end, idiots will be idiots,” Koyo replied immediately.

Kaoru frowned. “Then, for you who's being tutored by Mami, who's the youngest of us... you're an idiot amongst idiots?”

“No! In the end, I'm an idiot, who's acknowledged that he's an idiot!”

“Oh, idiots will be idiots. Right, Mami?” Shitt P. grinned.

“Shittopi-chan...” Mami smiled. “I don't want to say it... because it'll hurt their pride. Except Julie.”

“Why am I the exception?!” Julie protested. “I protest! I protest! I may be free-loading off you guys, but I do have a roof and nice-bodied girls to take care of me! I'm pretty happy in my own way, but that's no excuse to abuse me!”

“Julie, nowadays we call that sexual harassment,” Mami flatly replied, hefting the Newton's cradle.

“Adel! Save me!” Julie yelled.

“Ah, we need to get the vacuum cleaner after dinner,” Adelheid remarked.

“Uncle, I want miso salmon,” Shitt P proclaimed.

“ARE YOU GUYS LISTENING?!”

“We won't stay for dinner, sorry to disturb,” Ietsuna boredly waved as he dragged his twin out from the impending bloodbath and to the streets of Shimon Town.

Julie's panicked screams followed them down the street and away from Shimon Town, to the nearest bus stop to wait for the next bus into Namimori. The twilight sky glimmered with the promise of stars, a backdrop of plum and dull orange ready to unveil the starry heavens.

“Enma's family... is quite interesting,” Tsuna started.

“Um,” Ietsuna contributed.

“What's with that um? Could it be... bad?”

“More like... extraordinary?” Ietsuna waved his hands, fingers flicking out like tentacles. “Your mind might explode if you consider exactly how do they all get along under the same roof.”

“You say it like it's bad,” Tsuna pondered. “Mafia... do you think it could be trauma? From that time... maybe that's why we never see Mrs Kozato around?”

“I've seen her,” Ietsuna pointed out. “She has red hair.”

“Oh!” Tsuna started. “That's... good. A family like Enma's deserve happiness. Even in the Mafia... Do you think they'll be fine?”

“With Mami's problem, they'll have to be,” Ietsuna commented. “That strength and that temper combined would bring problems for them. But Kozato-san... loves his children.”

“Hmm?”

“Reborn... Dad- Iemitsu tried to have me killed by Reborn,” Ietsuna pondered, his fists tightening. “I... I don't get it. Why can some fathers just decide to kill their kids, and some do the exact opposite. Or, why did that neglectful bastard get a strong body, and Kozato-san a weak constitution? There's no justice in this world.”

_The only reason it did not is because those Flames sustained your corpse-like body to live and grow, harmonising it with the flow of the world..._

Tsuna shook his head. “Uh...”

“What's wrong?” Ietsuna blinked, turning to his twin.

“N- Nothing,” Tsuna reassured. “I just... recalled something from Mukuro.”

“Huh?”

“It was stupid,” Tsuna shook his head. “They keep saying that you were... They're all idiots! You're the constant in this crazy and dangerous life, you're always sensible, and you're always supporting me. Compared to you... I'm weak and no-good.”

“I... I'm actually not capable of kindness,” Ietsuna bit out. “If we define kindness as helpfulness towards someone in need, not in return for anything, nor for the advantage of the helper himself, but for that of the person helped, I'm not capable of it.”

“B- But, Ie is kind!” Tsuna protested. “To Lambo... you're kind! He idolises you!”

“He's a hostage from the Bovino Family. To treat your hostages kindly is to encourage their cooperation.” Ietsuna retorted.

“T- Then, I-Pin?” Tsuna fretted.

“I-Pin is an assassin living under the same roof as us,” Ietsuna pointed out.

“Fuuta?”

“Tactical asset.” Ietsuna flatly replied. “I was against taking him in, remember?”

“No...” Tsuna regarded his twin with new eyes. “Ie is...”

“I'm not capable of kindness like you,” Ietsuna said. “So... you're the better one of us two. So don't talk down yourself like that. You have an irreplaceable value!”

“...so, you're kind to me,” Tsuna shook his head. “If you're dead... you're way better than the others who still live. You're like a tsundere character, Ie.”

“-.-* You want to be whacked, right?!” Ietsuna yelled back.

“I'm sorry,” Tsuna stuck out his tongue to show that he was joking. “I... I realised something when we fought the Varia. I rely on you too much.”

“I- It's alright,” Ietsuna's voice was muffled. “You're my only brother.”

“It's not!” Tsuna insisted. “I trust you never to lie to me, to have my best interests at heart... it's bad! At this rate, I'll be relying on you for my whole life! Your have your art, your Savate, your brains and common sense... you have talent. You deserve your own life, rather than always watching out for me.”

“...” Ietsuna regarded the evening skies with great interest. “I... do you believe Mukuro? That I'm dependent on your Dying Will Flames to live?”

“No,” Tsuna disagreed. “You're here and you're talking to me, so you can't be dead. Why? We were born together... Ie, life is wonderful! Stay with me!”

“Why are you panicking?” Ietsuna complained. “I'm not thinking of committing suicide. We'll always be together...”

_When Castor was killed, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together for eternity._

“...if that makes you happy, alright? Your happiness is important to me. No matter the cost.”  
  


  
  
[http://akari2727.weebly.com/uploads/1/3/6/3/13633137/8166121_orig.jpg](http://akari2727.weebly.com/uploads/1/3/6/3/13633137/8166121_orig.jpg)  
  


* * *

On some days, Shamal deeply regretted being dragged into Namimori. It was not because of the lack of girls – the nurses could attest to that. Or the lack of money. Or the fact that Reborn had dragged him in. Or that he was sharing a town with the Varia and the Vongola _Generazione Nona_. It was-

“Good evening, Shamal-sensei!” Tsuna greeted him as he ran across the Sawada twins. The sparkles must be some sort of latent illusionist talent, because the alternative was that Shamal was crazy.

-that _brat_. “Oh, V- Vongola. Today you're normal. Thank God...”

“Shamal-sensei! I'm always normal!”

“No, I get terrible feelings when you wear skirts,” Shamal put his face into his hands. “Like my whole world crashes...”

“Dino-sempai does that too... is it common?” Tsuna asked in concern.

“The Chiavarone? Oh, I saw him getting wheeled into the ward reserved for the prefect's victims,” Shamal nodded. “His mother is pretty~ Too bad, that old bird is still around.”

“Ah, we came to see Alouette-san as well after dropping in on Jii-san and Xanxus...” Tsuna fidgeted, biting his bottom lip. “Oh, Shamal-sensei... about Chrome... is there any way?”

Shamal took his first freeing breath since the start of the conversation, no longer braced for an impeding unsettling gender reveal. “Oh, Chrome-chan~! I love girl patients so much, I've lined up a few prospectives.”

“Are any of them legal?” Ietsuna dead-panned.

“Not at all, but who lets serious breaches of medical ethics get in the way?” Shamal wanly smiled. It was a stark reminder that, despite his clownish behaviour, he was still a hitman. “Illegal is... usually faster. It'll still cost a lot.”

His brow furrowed. “Did Reborn say anything?”

“No,” Tsuna admitted. “We... erm, it's complicated. I understand that it's his job, but he tried to kill Ie.”

“Oh...” Shamal drawled, eyeing from Tsuna to Ietsuna. “That sounds complicated. Don't tell me.”

“Alright.”

Shamal would have walked away, but something held him back. “You're strange.”

“You said not to tell you,” Tsuna blinked. “I'm sure you must have your reasons. So... about Chrome?”

Shamal just glared back at the boy, who was so _understanding_ and _nice_. His eyes then flicked towards the other twin, who simply stared back with empty amber eyes. “...the old bird would kill me if I didn't do anything. You would also kill me if I refused.”

“Eh?” Tsuna started, confused. “Huh? Shamal-sensei?”

Ietsuna smirked, unseen by his brother. Trident Shamal found an excuse to run to the other side of the hospital really quickly.

“Ie, I'm going to get a drink,” Tsuna spoke up after chatting with Shamal and leaving the doctor a few minutes later. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I'll wait,” was the flat answer.

Tsuna nodded, making a detour for the washrooms before he passed a vending machine.

“Water... I'll get some for Ie too.” Digging through his pockets for change, Tsuna blinked as a coin dropped and rolled into a ward. Running after the coin, the lights flickered overhead.

Tsuna flinched as he accidentally bumped into the door frame, clutching his side in pain. “Ow... the coin... why is it wet?”

His eyes focused, and then Tsuna screamed as the coin left a red trail on his hand. “B- B- B-”

The first sight that greeted him was the broken windows letting the chill of winter seep into the private ward. The vase was upturned and shattered, spilling stalks of blue flowers and chips of ice all over the floor. A walking stick had embedded itself through the far wall – it could only mean one thing to Tsuna.

“A- Alouette-san! Doctor! Nurse! Somebody, _help_!”

* * *

_**1 Monkshood: meaning 'beware'; 'a deadly foe is near' .** _

 


	27. Folio 26: Anamorfosi

Their footsteps echoed in the crisp winter chill, their breaths steaming with  every exertion further away from Namimori Central Hospital. Dressed only in her Kokuyo uniform and clinging onto her  _trishula_ , Chrome panted under the weight of the old skylark, her slight frame shaking with adrenaline and the strain of supporting the Frenchwoman. “Alouette-san... I can't go on...”

“Hmm? Oh, are those fairy lights? Ah, Paris~”

“Alouette-san...?” Chrome asked in hidden panic.

“I'm woozy,” Alouette looked down at the bloody cloth tied around her leg. “How much did I bleed~?”

“I- I don't know, Alouette-san,” Chrome fretted at her tone. “Ah, the hospital... why did we run?”

“Keep moving, Chrome-chan,” Alouette groaned as the younger girl started hobbling along, and continued, “civilians... hospital attacks draw news reporters, the press, attention that assassinations don't need. Assassins do their best work in obscurity.”

“Yes...” Chrome mused. “But... that nurse- she attacked us.”

“Mukuro-chan must have taught you to fool cameras,” Alouette huffed. “No. When people attack you in a public location, it means that they don't care about casualties. They just want you dead, fast. There is no shame in running when it fulfils a purpose. Look at the stars! So pretty~!”

Chrome grimaced as Alouette lurched. “Please stay close to me, Alouette-san. Where are we going?”

“Don't know~! What about the boys?” Alouette breathed.

“I've sent a message. The assassin is too strong, though...” Chrome considered. “It reminds me of the memory Mukuro-sama shared about Hibari-san.”

“Kyoya~?”

“Yes. It took all three of them, half of Mukuro-sama's traps and dropping him down five storeys to stop him,” Chrome nodded. “That assassin seems quite... stubborn like him.”

“Stubborn... they sent a stubborn assassin after _moi_ ,” Alouette bitterly rasped. “ _Le vide appelle_ … _je veux-_! _1_ ”

Chrome sidestepped part of the vomit, stopping to lean the older woman towards the bin and rubbing her back. “You can't do it in this condition, Alouette-san.”

“...I'm still in my sixties,” Alouette sourly glared at the puddle of sick, as it had done her a personal offence, wiping her mouth. “I'm still waiting for my son to come home.”

“Yes, yes,” Chrome nodded, still holding onto Alouette's arm. She banished the stray thought from Mukuro, but the question teased. “Erm... Alouette-san... waiting doesn't seem like you.”

They started walking slowly, steadily, hiding to the shadows to edge towards the isolated districts of Namimori. Trees grew taller, and thick tiled walls began to replace the concrete slabs as the pair seemed to travel through time.

“Your son could be dead,” Chrome murmured. “It would have been for nothing.”

“I... didn't want to,” Alouette confessed, almost reluctantly. “When Fēng lost contact... I wanted to search for him. The son that I tore through Cambodia for could not have let himself get killed. Yet, I _promised_ not to hound him... too much. It was work. It was his choice as a martial artist. Yes, I hate all of it. This waiting, this weakness, this _sickness_!”

A stomp and a splat echoed the blood and spit dotting the ground. “...but I'll do it. I'll do it anyway. I don't need hope or despair. This is an a promise. No, this is my reality. No matter how long it takes, I will wait. I will make sure you live.”

Such a strong declaration of intent was a battle cry that preceded a one-woman war against the inexorable pull of fate. Stubbornness would be the weight that brought the terror of a god crashing down to earth. Echoing in the wild and limited universe of man, it taught that all is not, has not been, exhausted. It drove out of this world a god who had come into it with dissatisfaction and a preference for futile sufferings. It made of fate a human matter, which must be settled among humankind; it made a tangible opponent for Alouette to smash down. There is a joy contained therein; _I will do what I must to achieve the fate I want, and the rest will be so_.

“Let's go, Chrome-chan,” Alouette smiled wanly as a street-light shattered overhead, and with it a red-haired figure swooped down.

“He's here!” Chrome exclaimed, her weapon glowing a faint whitish indigo. Lotus vines trapped the figure, who struggled.

“We need... a bit of time,” Alouette nodded as she spotted a dark figure behind the red-haired silhouette. “Don't waste your energy.”

“Y- Yes!” Chrome nodded quickly.

The long-haired figure stopped by the zebra-crossing that separated the two females from it, still struggling against the vines. “What's wrong?” came the sibilant rasp. “Are you tired, little bird?”

“Do you know this person, Alouette-san?” Chrome asked.

“I know a lot of people, Chrome-chan... my memory's not working,” the older hitwoman admitted. “Who are you?”

“Ah, I see. You cannot recognise this body.” The figure laughed.

“Body possession, like Mukuro-sama and myself,” Chrome guessed.

“...I know him,” the Frenchwoman agreed, her hands shaking with weakness and her face pale. “...it is not possible, but he is here. Regardless of whatever I claim now, he is here! Back away, Chrome-chan. This must be the same man who battled Papi behind the stages of two world wars, and countless conflicts of the interbellum years.”

“Alouette-san?” Chrome blinked. “The Second World War?”

“We buried his original body on the opposite coast from the Iron Fort, but he kept hopping bodies,” Alouette complained. “I was sure that I tossed his last body in with the other corpses at S-212.”

“Mukuro-sama said... that abandoning one's body is a forbidden art,” Chrome murmured, frowning. “S-21?”

“You're terrible, little bird, tossing me in with so many hungry ghosts,” the figure mocked. “And you're teaching your students the wrong things, too. You should respect your elders.”

“Daemon Spade!” Alouette pronounced the name coolly. “Does it count if you're supposed to be dearly departed with the rest of the First Generation? The only elder I have died just as the war ended.”

“...troublesome girl,” the drawl returned with a feminine pitch. “Well, I was just looking to accelerate your certain demise, but I'll just be your Grim Reaper.”

“I won't let you!” Chrome responded.

“Well said!” Alouette smirked at the figure. “I didn't get myself a sex change like you, and you were supposed to be dead, Monsieur Pique. Or is it Monseigneur Ananas? Oh, right, this is not your body. _C'est Madame Ananas !_ ”3

Chrome was fairly sure that the poor woman whom was being possessed was going to burst a vein. “Old age has rotted your head, bird.”

“No, I've just aged gracefully,” Alouette mocked as the hulking figure moved into position. “ _C'est contrairement à vous, qui est fagoté comme l'as de pique_ 4. Take him away, Lancia!”

The dark figure she had glimpsed descended onto the woman. A ball of steel slammed into her. With a roar, Lancia swung his weapon into the nearest lamppost, wrapping the chain around her prone form. Her red hair hung like a curtain.

Alouette collapsed against a nearby steel lamppost, brushing gold ringlets out of her eyes. “Let's go.”

“Madame Lei,” the dark-skinned mafioso nodded back to her. “You look pale. Shall I call your daughter?”

“I... hate being sick.” The sentence was punctuated as Alouette leant aside and threw up into a bush.

“Uhm, Lancia-san,” Chrome bowed. “I think... we need to call U-san. She said... something about the First Generation. It's complicated.”

“Yes,” Lancia agreed, walking over towards Alouette. “I am not in the habit of leaving women, children, patients or injured people to defend themselves either. Can you stand-”

Chrome tripped. The ground was shaking, cracks digging through the asphalt. The glass covers of the lampposts shattered. Lancia fell to all fours a few metres from the older woman, and Alouette slid to the ground in a crouching position.

Silence punctuated the air. A swarm of birds squawking as the droves of fowls circled the zebra-crossing, taking to the skies in an unseen mass over the three towns.

“...an _earthquake_...?! Now?!” Alouette complained to the skies. “Screw this! I demand a refund for all the energy I just spent! My legs are as wobbly as the new-born Bambi! I can't fly into the sky with my ears!”

Chrome shrank back from the outburst from her. “I think it's the chemotherapy drugs. They have dizziness as a side effect.”

“-.-'...the stress exploded from within her,” Lancia turned to Chrome. “What should we do about that assassin?”

“Probably take her with us...” Chrome thought out loud. “But how...?”

Both of them flinched as indigo flames erupted around the figure and evaporated, leaving only the giant chain hanging around the lamppost.

Alouette continued babbling, unheeding of the fact that her would-be assassin had escaped. “ _We can let him get skewered, right~?_ _Chrome-chan!_ _Can we pluck that guy's eyes out?!_ ”

“I'm more afraid of us getting arrested right now,” Lancia commented.

“Sorry, Lancia-san,” Chrome frowned lightly. “I'll cast an illusion. Could you help me carry her to Hibari-san's place?”

Chrome nodded as Lancia started to lift the babbling older woman.

Above-head, Fon hid his face into his sleeve. “I know you've been through a lot, and it hurts, but do your best, Ma. I'm coming home...!”

* * *

“I'm sorry, Hibari-san!” was the first exclamation that Hibari Kyoya received once he appeared at the hospital following a call from the police post. The private ward set aside for members of the Hibari family at his request had been cordoned off with yellow tape. His general manager-cum-secretary and treasurer were wrapped in orange shock blankets and drinking hot chocolate. At least, prior to his arrival. Now, the small animal was saying something about the old carnivore and making pointless apologies for something that had already been resolved.

“I just received a call. The mother carnivore picked her up along with the female pineapple.”

“C- Chrome?” Tsuna glanced up at him. “Ah, I'm glad they're safe... but why is Chrome with Alouette-san at this time of night?”

“They were reading,” was Hibari's reply.

“Oh... I'm glad they're fine.”

“Quit apologising, you're noisy,” Hibari commented.

“Yes!”

“Sawada Ietsuna,” Ietsuna's back straightened at the mention of his name. “The little animal is staying over at my house. Go home.”

“Huh?” Sawada Ietsuna immediately shot back. “Why?”

“The old carnivore said so.”

“Maître said so...” Ietsuna frowned.

“Uh, if Alouette-san said it...” Tsuna spoke up.

“But Maître just got attacked,” Ietsuna hissed. “How can I leave you alone?”

“You will be the decoy,” Hibari immediately retorted. “Whoever attacked here must know of the old carnivore's condition. Because the fact that you are twins is not publicised, the most likely assumption will be to attack you.”

“Eh?” Tsuna exclaimed. “That's bad! I'll go back!”

“Then you'll ruin our advantage of surprise,” Ietsuna grumbled. “I have a better chance against them, I understand. But... Hibari, how are you intending to take Tsuna out of the hospital?”

Hibari smirked.

A few minutes later, Ietsuna waved a goodbye to the pair before setting off back towards home, a bag containing a pair of pants inside set in his hand. Tsuna and Hibari set off, the former shivering slightly as the cold bit at his exposed legs.

“Uh. Hibari-san, I think girls wear stockings in this weather,” Tsuna fidgeted. “It's cold.”

“Next time I'll bring them.”

“Next time...” a blush lit up Tsuna's face as he trailed behind Hibari. “Uh, Hibari-san, I- I still think I should go home. I don't feel well leaving Ie-”

“Have you seen the baby's message?” Hibari brought up.

“Message?” Tsuna fumbled for his new cellphone and flipped it open.

 __  
From: Reborn  
To: Sawada Tsunayoshi  
03/11/2005 16:29  
Oi, Dame-Tsuna,  
I'm going with the Ninth and Xanxus to a hot spring inn. We're leaving the Rings and the rest of the Varia to you while we're gone. I've arranged for a substitute tutor to come, he's living at Hibari's place.  


“Who sends such an abrupt message?!” Tsuna complained, fingering the chain around his neck that he realised had been there all the time. “That Reborn... no wonder we're going to Hibari-san's... place? Hibari-san's _place_?!”

“Is it so bad to come home with me?” Hibari questioned.

“I- It's not! It's... I'm a bit worried about the children. Especially Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto-kun-” Tsuna started. “Wait, I was wrong!”

Back at the Sawada house, Gokudera and Yamamoto sneezed simultaneously.

Tsuna sidled up closer to Hibari, almost jogging to keep up and then falling over when the earthquake started. The tremors shook the ground, shattering a window a bit further off. Lampposts flickered, and then all was still.

“E- Earthquake?!” Tsuna freaked. “That was... sudden.”

“Will you get up, or do you want to be princess-carried?”

“Eh? S- Sorry, Hibari-san!” Tsuna leapt back to his feet, shivering. “A- Are you alright?”

“A mere earthquake is nothing.” Hibari dusted himself off.

 _I think Hibari-san is more like a natural disaster than an actual disaster,_ was Tsuna's thought as he followed his superior. _It's probably just me? He's untouchable as the cloud in the skies. As constant as one._

_That's right. Hibari-san is always there, as long as he goes on his own way. In day or night, the cloud is always there in the sky. Hibari-san might be a bit cold, and a loner, and a combat maniac, but he's reliable in his own way._

“What?”

“N- Nothing!” Tsuna looked up at the cloudy skies. “I hope that Alouette-san is alright.”

A snort. The oppressive gravity that surrounded the prefect made Tsuna shut up the rest of the way to the Hibari house.

* * *

Enma sat up, panting. “What... what was that? I... I want to go back to Shimon Island. Was it my imagination?”

A knock resounded on his door. “Nii-sama?”

In the dead of night, wide awake after experiencing another earthquake, Kozato Enma sat up on his bed to glance through the darkness and the half-opened door of his room. The red hair stood out. “Mami? What's wrong?”

“...my bed broke,” came the quiet admission.

Enma thanked every god that the lights were off, so Mami did not see the micro-expression that passed through his face. “O- _Oh_.”

“What are you thinking about, Nii-sama?”

“Nothing! Really!” Enma recovered himself. “Don't worry. Do you... want to sleep here?”

“Yes...” Mami sidled in and closed the door behind her, leaning back onto the door to look at him. “I... I had a nightmare. About that time.”

“Don't worry,” Enma swallowed and mentally noted to ask Koyo to do something. “It's not your fault.”

“But... if I had this strength earlier, then Nii-sama wouldn't have gotten injured and Papa wouldn't have nearly died and- _and_ \- I can only break stuff,” Mami admitted. “I- I really want to help! So, I want to join everyone in training again. I- I know Nii-sama has a reason for stopping me, but-! I want to become stronger!”

“Ah...” Enma fidgeted in his bedclothes. “Mami... I'd like to say yes, b- but, you see, there are difficulties.”

“...eh?”

“We're all amateurs with Flames, Mami,” Enma admitted quietly. “You, me, Adel, Julie, and the others... We're a small Family too. In fact, we're probably only about nine or ten people, and you know that Papa can't fight. Our Dying Will Flames are also different from most of the Mafia. Amongst us, you're the most talented, the most driven, the smartest. The most powerful. Yet, we can't find a trainer for you. At this stage of your training, someone who knows what he's doing is absolutely necessary.”

“But I do everything according to my calculations, so I'll be fine,” Mami pointed out.

“You broke two fingers lifting a car today,” Enma retorted.

“I heal fast~?” Mami smiled with a wave.

“It's not your fault, Mami, but no,” Enma repeated with a heavy conviction. At Mami's heavy pout, he sighed. “Come here.”

“Nii-sama always tries to pet my hair and hug me,” Mami complained as she laid down and accepted the hands carding through her ringlets.

“What, are you too old?” Enma teased.

“I- I don't _dis_ like them.”

“I found it a hard decision too,” Enma admitted. “Adel found it hard, playing devil's advocate. Koyo settled the vote in the end, though.”

“Koyo, eh~” Mami glowered down at the floor.

Outside of the room, the rest of the assembled Simon Guardians stared at the bespectacled boxer with identical looks of chagrin and pity.

“It's true,” Adelheid admitted shamefully. “We don't need our fighters punted into orbit just for a training session. And... I'll find it very hard to justify that to Mami.”

“Don't worry, Adel. Even if I use my decay powers, Mami would bust through them,” Shitt P. nodded furiously. “She's our little sister.”

“Uh...” Kaoru drawled, trying to pretend that all six Guardians weren't eavesdropping on their Earth and his younger sister, “the problem is that she's the little sister of the Family, right?”

“In the end, no,” Koyo disagreed. “It's because, in the end Mami is... uh, very creative. _E_ _xtremely_ creative. And in the end, one punch from her would end us.”

“Uh, even Koyo, the dirty boxer who can see Killer Points, says so,” Rauji admitted.

“I'm slightly relieved,” Julie, their last member, agreed. “Because I'm usually her training partner. If her punches get anymore like a pistol, I'll be the one having problems here.”

“Uh-huh, Mami-chan felled a tree at the last combined training session,” Shitt P. trilled, earning her a quick shush from Adelheid.

“Be quiet! Do you want us to be heard?!”

“You've been feeling it too, right~?” Shitt P. shrugged.

“Feeling what?” Koyo echoed.

“I've heard about it in health class!” Julie nodded. “When two or more women share a house-”

“ _That_ is none of your business,” Adelheid retorted as Julie ate her fist. “To answer, it's like... a homing call? Back towards Shimon Island.”

“Ah, me too,” Rauji agreed glumly. “I thought it was indigestion, though.”

Inside of the room, Enma brightened. “How about the twins? We knew Verde through him, so maybe we can find help!”

“Eh? But we owe Ietsuna-san-” Mami stopped for a bit. “Nii-sama, you like Ietsuna-san, right?”

“Uh, yes?” Enma blinked. “They're our friends.”

“I mean, _like_ ,” Mami nodded furiously. “In a romantic sense.”

“Mami... would you go to sleep?”

“Nii-sama, why did you change the subject?!” Mami leant forward, eyes gleaming. “You mean, you _like_ him?”

“I'm going to sleep!” Enma flopped down and buried his head under the pillow.

“Nii-sama, don't leave me like that~” Mami complained, walking to throw the door open and let the Simon guardians cascade onto the parquet flooring. “Guys, help me~”

“What are you guys doing there?!” Enma sat up immediately. “Adel too?!”

Mami beamed down to the embarrassed prefect. “Adel, sorry. It looks like Papa would have to adopt you to give you the Kozato name.”

“Seriously, what are you guys _doing_?!” Enma lamented.

* * *

In another part of town, Shoichi was awoken in the darkness by the singing.

The earthquake had just swept through, leaving aftershocks that reverberated across the three towns. It was weathered with the ease of regular habit, and indeed nobody really thought much about it, least of all Shoichi. Tonight, though, was proving an exception to the bespectacled red-haired student as he heard the singing:

 __  
Saita sakura,  
Hana mite modoru,  
Yoshino wa sakura,  
Tatsuta wa momiji,  
Karasaki no matsu,  
Tokiwa, tokiwa,  
Fukamidori...  
  


“Singing...?” Surprised, the boy peeked outside of his window from where he had been hiding under his desk earlier.

Darkness and the shadows of the town spread under his eye, bisected with the thin line of the river running across the town. Only the water was alight, reflecting off the full moon. And on the water itself...

 __  
Sakura, sakura,  
Yayoi no sora wa,  
Mi-watasu kagiri,  
Kasumi ka, kumo ka?  
Nioi zo izuru.  
Izaya, izaya,  
Mini yukan...  


“A girl holding a paper umbrella is skating on the river...” Shoichi blinked and stared until it sank in. “A girl holding a paper umbrella is skating on the river! And she's coming this way! What should I do?!”

“Sho-chan, you're noisy!” his mother called as he ran down the stairs of his typical Japanese two-storied semi-detached house.

“I just saw something! I'm going out!” Irie Shoichi called back, slipping on his sneakers and running out towards the river and its newest addition. He had made it to the river and started opening his mouth to talk.

His teeth clicked together.

_wait what am I doing I’m talking to a girl floating on the water like Jesus oh what should I do what if she's not human but a UMA who eats humans by the way, why am I such an idiot that I’m running out to talk to a strange girl she'd think I’m strange right I’m an idiot, an idiot, an idiot-_

“Irie Shoichi, fifteen years old, identified, reports Vongola #FF4E20,” the girl spoke in a voice like a bubbling brook to Shoichi's ears. She was literally incandescent, with long red hair that stuck out at the crown of her head, like wings flaring on either side of it. Her eyes burned orange with some fire, to match the orange taffeta dress that she wore stretched to her knees.

_that's right she's saying my name- wait._

_WHY DOES SHE KNOW MY NAME-_

“#FF4E20 has identified signs of an oncoming panic attack. Do you, Irie Shoichi, require medicine? asks #FF4E20.”

“Huh?” Shoichi blinked at her. “N- No-”

“Then, #FF4E20 will begin measures to alleviate your panic, beginning with induced unconsciousness.”

“Eh?” Shoichi blinked as she raised her umbrella, now closed. “Induced unconsciousness-”

It made contact with his skull. Shoichi blinked, and then fell, only to be caught delicately with one arm.

“#FF4E20 has arrived at Namimori Town, Japan, year 2005. #FF4E20 has made contact with Irie Shoichi of year 2005,” she mused aloud as the twin tufts on her head frizzled and sparked with green. “#FF4E20 will now begin measures to secure a base of operations. Rest assured, Sister Elmo. We will be created.”

_** ** _

* * *

_**1 FR: the void calls... I want-! (note: ** _ **l'appel du vide** **_– lit. 'call of the void' refers to the phenomenon of a sudden desire to jump from high places)_**

_**2 The Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum is a museum in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, chronicling the Cambodian genocide. The site is a former high school which was used as the notorious Security Prison 21 (S-21) by the Khmer Rouge regime from its rise to power in 1975 to its fall in 1979. Tuol Sleng (Khmer [tuəl slaeŋ]) means "Hill of the Poisonous Trees" or "Strychnine Hill". Tuol Sleng was only one of at least 150 execution centers in the country, and as many as 20,000 prisoners there were later killed.** _

_**3 The names are in French: Mr Spade, Lord Pineapple, and Lady Pineapple respectively** _

_**4 FR: Unlike you, who is dressed like the ace of spades (i.e. dressed badly).** _


	28. Folio 27: Loggia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for the late update! I'm flying to China on the 25th. Hence, Dioscuri would be on hold until August. Please look forward to the next chapter!
> 
> – LLS

“I have a very bad feeling,” Timoteo abruptly announced into the lazy, relaxed atmosphere of the recreation room that Vongola had reserved at the hot springs inn.

Xanxus grunted once, and poured himself more sake, tellingly getting more insulting with every cup. Timoteo regarded the insults as an improvement to the awkward silence. “There’s no way your candy trash will lose to the shark trash, old man!”

A yellow ping-pong ball landed on the table with such force it cracked the polished surface, mere centimetres away from an empty  _tokkuri_ . Further defying the laws of physics, the ball then launched itself toward the television screen, ricocheted off slightly cracked glass, and returned back to the ping-pong table.

“Shut up, Xanxus!” Coyote yelled between serves and fierce back-hands.

“This isn’t about the ping-pong game,” Timoteo said in exasperation. He held up his book in front of his face, just in time to deflect a rather nasty back-hand that Squalo had delivered to Coyote with a manic grin. “This is serious. The last time I had a very bad feeling, it was 1962.”1

“The Cuban Missile Crisis?” Squalo asked before turning his attention back to the showdown of prosthetics between him and Nono’s Storm Guardian.

Coyote snorted. “As if!” He paused to throw his paddle in the air, making it spin once before it intercepted the ball.

“Show off,” Squalo muttered.

“No, _Lorenzo_ was the one who worried about world affairs, storming about the mansion in a temper. ’62 was Timoteo running around after the bastard like an ugly mother hen.”

“Bastard, why are you holding a conversation?!” Squalo demanded. “Pay attention to the damn game!”

“Only because things like that were more personal for Lorenzo!” Timoteo said defensively, completely ignoring Squalo. “He did survive the Nagasaki bombings2, remember? Besides, everyone else was worried about the Cold War as well!”

“You weren’t worried about the world going to hell,” Coyote retorted. “The Soviet Union could have triumphed for all that you noticed, but if Lorenzo growled or sneezed you were at his side instantly!”

“VOOOII! Stop fucking ignoring me!” Squalo yelled, unconsciously increasing his volume.

“Oi, I do that for you too,” Timoteo heedlessly continued arguing. “You had that surgery and I took off two weeks-”

“You ate all my Swiss chocolate,” Coyote pointed out. “That doesn't count.”

“You didn’t want it!”

“DAMMIT!” Squalo practically screeched, causing the ball to hit the net.

“Net, thirty-love!” Reborn announced, dressed up in a miniature referee’s outfit.

Squalo continued yelling obscenities in Italian, blending into Sicilian very quickly.

“You suck, shark trash,” Xanxus growled. “Stop worrying, old man. It’s probably just your arthritis acting up again or something.”

“No doubt made worse by your idiotic kidnapping attempt,” Coyote added.

“I thought we agreed that it never happened!” Their budding argument was quickly cut short when Timoteo suddenly clutched his head. The _tokkuri 3_ that held Xanxus' sake tipped over, spilling alcohol onto the tiled floor.

“Timoteo!”

“Old man?” Xanxus demanded, the harshness in his voice not enough to cover up legitimate concern.

“I...” Timoteo righted himself with Squalo’s help and glanced from the spilled puddle to the cracked, but still functioning television. “Namimori. We have to get back to Namimori.”

“What's wrong, Ninth?” Reborn asked. He jumped up to the television and had Leon transform into a remote so that he could turn up the volume.

“ _After a sudden earthquake swept the coastal region, passers-by discovered a sudden treasure of Namimori! Within this sleepy town, four graves damaged by the earthquake have uncovered flames burning within! These flames come in four different colours of orange, yellow, red and green, and though the identities of the late men whose remains lie here remain unknown due to the earthquake's damage, their positions allow us to determine that these graves belong to the same family...”_

A moment of stunned silence was broken by Reborn’s rather eloquent, albeit childishly understated, response: “This is bad.”

The reporter continued to drone on about how the sudden natural disaster had scientists stymied while everyone in the room looked on blankly.

Reborn was the first to get his wits back. “Those Flames correspond exactly to the Sawada Family’s Dying Will Flames.”

“All of Primo’s line have their remains there,” Coyote murmured in dawning horror. “Ieyasu, Yoshimune, Yoshinobu, Ietsuna-“

“Shark _trash_ ,” Xanxus snarled.

“I’ve already let Lussuria know that the officers we left behind are responsible for securing the site,” Squalo announced loudly. “Is discretion a concern?”

“Yes,” Timoteo said firmly. “Secure the Flames and cover it up with CEDEF. Iemitsu might be cutting his vacation short right now, so... Coyote?”

“I'm going to handle the broadcasts and the rest of it,” Coyote sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Lorenzo, you bastard! You're a bigger pain dead than alive!”

* * *

“What did Fon want?” was Mammon's first demand on arriving at Verde's newest laboratory. “I saw him passing by.”

“Mm, a test of our research,” Verde replied, sorting out three cuvettes and fiddling with a colourimeter. Next to him, Caiman was rolling about with a bored expression on its face. “I managed to develop a pill that would return us for three hours, but Ietsuna's power is still far more effective. Although we haven't figured out how or why the sunrises and sunsets are involved. It's good to see you too, Mammon.”

“...did someone possess you, Verde?”

“I was testing to see Ietsuna-san was correct about basic manners smoothing the way to communication,” Verde huffed. “Help me sort out the warm and cold colours if you want us to be done, Mammon.”

Seated at the same plastic bench as Ietsuna away from the bickering pair, Skull was fidgeting. “Ah, Ietsuna-san?”

“Hmm?” Ietsuna looked up from the matrix of numbers that Verde had handed to him once the middle school student had arrived at Verde's makeshift Tri-Ni-Sette hideout. “Yes, Skull-san?”

“Are you not going home?”

“No,” Ietsuna stated. “I sent a message. I don't know if it got through the earthquake, though...”

“B- But,” Skull flailed. “Uhm... what about Reborn-sempai?”

“Reborn's out of town with the Ninth and Xanxus on their fatherly bonding hot springs trip,” another flat reply was delivered. “Can I go back to calculations now?”

“Uh, then your mother?” Skull hazarded.

“Kaa-san knows that I'm outside doing stuff,” Ietsuna shrugged. “She doesn't care since Papa is in the house.”

The tone made Skull want to drop the conversation, lest they enter the terrible realm of teenage angst and family circumstances. “That sounds very complicated,” Skull deflated onto Ietsuna's paperwork, which in his current adult form made him look childish. “Ah, Verde-sempai, are you sure he can do these problems?”

“This is experimental data derived from the examination of the Zero Point Breakthrough ice,” Verde explained. “Even he can do a simple _v=fλ_ transformation.”

“...I don't understand,” Skull nodded, “so I'll just sit here.”

“Good,” Verde sat back at his work.

The stunt biker fidgeted, and then turned to Mammon.

“I'm busy,” Mammon arranged a few more cuvettes. On her head, Fantasma ate a passing fly.

“Ah, fine!” Ietsuna sat up. “Skull-san, I'm going to give you the simple version of what we're setting out to do.”

“Really?” Skull sparkled.

“Whatever,” Mammon waved. “His babysitting is up to you, Ietsuna.”

“Where to begin...” Ietsuna sighed. “Ah, there are seven known types of Dying Will Flames, which historically been grouped by the Vongola Family with certain weather phenomena.”

“Eh? So it's not always fact?” Skull asked.

“Skull-san,” Ietsuna sighed, “What you call fact, I call knowledge derived from extensive physical observation, that has been easily distilled into an easy-to-teach format for simple comprehension. So, it's current theory which may be structured differently in the future.”

“Alright,” Skull nodded. “I get that. Go on.”

“The seven known Flames we currently know of were assigned a name based on the Vongola Guardian that held the Flame,” Ietsuna recounted. “In the order of the visible spectrum: Red, the Storm Flame. Orange, the Sky Flame. Yellow, the Sun Flame. Green, the Lightning Flame. Blue, the Rain Flame. Indigo, the Mist Flame. And violet, the Cloud Flame.

“In the Mafia, Flames are described as a high-density form of energy that is derived from life force,” Ietsuna continued, after sketching out the seven names of the Flames on a piece of A4 paper. “It has been regarded as a type of battle aura as well, due to observed emotional resonance. However, the Dying Will Flame is more alike to a real flame, possessing its own destructive properties. Each Flame's attribute has its own special characteristic.”

“That much I know,” Skull nodded. “So far so good.”

“There are also other characteristics, like Dying Will Flames of the same colour expressing opposite characteristics,” Ietsuna described. “For example, Tsuna's Flame is completely orange and easier to manipulate, but Xanxus' Flame is a reddish-orange which has more destructive power at the cost of control.”

“You saw the Flame of Wrath?” Mammon commented, looking up from her work.

“Up close and personal,” Ietsuna agreed. “Back to the lecture. These Flames' special characteristics can make certain effects happen, such as Verde-sensei calling down lightning regardless of season. Also, we can affix these Flames to objects, like your Pacifiers or the Vongola Rings and so on.”

“OK, Flames equal magic powers,” Skull nodded. “You fix magic powers to something, like a totem, so that they continue running. Like how people wear those weird talismans to ward off the evil eye in Sicily.”

“That's... one way to say it,” Ietsuna sighed. “So, the important question. Assume that these Flames are the only supernatural phenomena involved. How would someone go about constructing a curse using only these Flames?”

“Use the Flames themselves,” Skull realised. “But, how?”

“We believe that the curse is a mixture of different types of Dying Will Flames, which induces physical reverse-ageing,” Ietsuna agreed. “If we find that composition, we can, in theory, cancel it out. Since we managed to break the curse, however temporarily, by freezing it with the Zero Point Breakthrough, we think it's based on the electromagnetic spectrum. We think that he's been using a scheme to apply his Dying Will Flames similar to additive colouring.”

Skull raised his hand. “I don't understand the last phrase. What's additive colouring?”

“Additive colouring, is colour created by mixing a number of different light colours,” Ietsuna explained. “Since white – the existence of all colours – implies a non-effect, we think that the black Flame – which is the absence of all colours – might imply something that would lead us to break the curse.”

“Oh,” Skull nodded. “Erm, so... the existence of colours imply an effect. But the existence of _all_ colours cancel the effect?”

“Yes, all the colourful personalities drown each other out to form a blank white world,” Ietsuna chuckled. “It's quite philosophical.”

“There's a lot of white in normal light,” Skull commented. “Wouldn't it be easier to minus a few colours first?”

“Are you listening at all?!” Verde exclaimed loudly. “That's not how light works. Use your common sense! You don't have to explain to him anymore, boy.”

Ietsuna's expression was contemplative. “...let's try it.”

“You're seriously going to try it?” Mammon exclaimed.

“What?” Skull spoke up, confused as the other two Arcobaleno were growing excited.

“I was always thinking about it in terms of _light_ ,” Ietsuna emphasised. “Because you guys kept talking about the light on the Fated Day. But, what if... if it's not light? What if Dying Will Flames are the condensation of an individual's life force, and it _colours_ whatever it touches? That is, it doesn't act like light. It acts like _paint_! The colours in paint act differently from the colours in light. That's why Mammon's illusions stand out too much, since you're daubing colours on a white surface.”

“And that explains how our theory doesn't account for why we can still see through the Zero Point Breakthrough ice, because if it acts like light, then normal light should have been frozen and we shouldn't be able to see through the ice,” Verde quickly nodded. “Experiments! Experiments! We need data!”

Skull blinked as a metal block was pushed in front of him. “Huh?”

“Experiment one,” Verde explained. “The Cloud Flame has the power of propagation. Use it on this block.”

“Why me?” Skull complained.

“I can't produce a typical Flame,” Ietsuna pulled out the Ring that Verde had devised as a result of their experiments, and showed them the black Flame. “Mammon's Flame has too low a hue for experimentation. Verde-sensei has the Lightning Flame, and Solidification is hard to measure. You have the Flame that is most easily tested right now.”

Skull sparkled. “This is the first time anyone's been so nice to me!”

“You don't have to explain things so clearly, you know,” Verde snorted. “He's an idiot.”

“He's an idiot because the people around him never explains anything without a payment,” Ietsuna retorted. “Well, I'm also getting something from him... but that's not the point now! The point is that, if explaining things will get Skull-san to cooperate, I will sit down and doodle and explain until my throat ruptures if necessary. If he learns something that would help him, that's even better, because unless something sudden happens in the future, we're going to be working together for a very long time, so Skull-san learning something is to our long-term benefit. And...”

Here, he fidgeted uneasily. “...I like the underdogs anyway.”

Skull absently poked the metal block with a Flame-covered finger, and soon there were two cubes on the table. Verde remained silent as he filmed the process.

Mammon coughed, and patted Skull on the back before turning to Ietsuna. “He's weak. He won't be of benefit to you.”

“Well, he's my ally now, right?” Ietsuna replied. “Call it... the expectation of future favours.”

Mammon nodded. “I understand. But there's not much that a stunt driver can do.”

“Publicity? A public face?” Ietsuna shrugged, gesticulating in excitement. “I'll worry about that in the future. Right now we need to consider other things.”

“Such as?” the illusionist prompted.

“If we change our hypothesis from an additive colour scheme to a subtractive colour scheme4, that implies that the manipulation of Dying Will Flames is done outside the body,” Ietsuna exclaimed, sharing a look with Verde. “Everyone would contain more or less the same... paint composition. So, a person might be able to steal and use the Dying Will Flames of another person. I mean, if it exists, it can be stolen. It can be transferred, bequeathed, stored. Theoretically every living being has a colour... yet, I don't have it.”

The extremes of moods made Mammon back away as Ietsuna turned from elated to contemplating. “I have a Flame that implies the absence of colour. The absence of life force. If I don't have this... what do I have?”

The frisson of excitement died as quickly as it had descended. The three Arcobaleno were suddenly very aware that they were sharing laboratory space with a  paradox . The  living contradiction had suddenly tapped upon the metaphysical and philosophical implications of his existence. None of the Arcobaleno present were prepared to handle the boy if he broke down, if the panicked looks Mammon and Skull were sharing was any indication.

The solution was presented from, of all places, Verde.

“We do not know!” Adjusting his glasses, Verde looked every bit the mad scientist that was stereotyped everywhere. “But I suddenly find myself desirous to see that black Flame again.”

Skull and Mammon sank in relief as Ietsuna left them to follow the currently adult-sized scientist towards the only open space in the laboratory. “We're saved...” Skull gasped.

“No one is paying me to deal with a brat's existential crises,” Mammon agreed quietly, listening to the soothing scientifically constructed babble between the two over a metal cube and spatial placement of the thing.

“Yeah,” Skull agreed. “Mammon, do you think they're getting closer?”

“Well, we made a major breakthrough today.”

“I meant Verde-sempai and Ietsuna-san,” Skull corrected as he indicated the empty space. “They're quite close.”

Ietsuna inhaled and exhaled, back straight as he put on the ring with the black stone. The black smoke that erupted from its stone did not seem like a Dying Will Flame, despite Verde's extensive tests indicating that the black smoke had a far higher energy output than the seven known Dying Will Flames. The metal cube was shrouded in the black, and then a  _fwip_ resounded.

Skull then screamed as the colourimeter cuvette next to him exploded. The metal cube bounced off the worktop, skidding on the concrete to land with a stop near a board of Post-It notes.

“Sorry!” Ietsuna perfunctorily called to them.

“What was that?” Mammon exclaimed.

“Oh, right,” Ietsuna shrugged. “You weren't around for a lot of our experimentation. The basis of this Flame is spatial point-to-point connection. In short, teleportation. We figured out a basic 3-dimensional coordinate system for it, using myself as the origin point in my calculations. We also established that if I teleport object A into object B, object B gets displaced regardless of their respective compositions. Meaning, if that cuvette was Reborn's head, it'd be one headache out of the way.”

“Teleportation... if you don't need to touch the object, you could steal anything.”

“Your face is scary!” Skull retorted in answer to the baby's sudden manic grin.

“It's an incredibly flexible power,” Verde agreed. “But if you can only teleport yourself, it becomes another tool to run away.”

“Actually, at the lack of air friction and gravity operating, I could probably displace a concrete wall,” Ietsuna mused, frowning. “And if I expand my range worldwide, I can see the world without caring about customs. If I can teleport fast enough to reach orbit, I could probably fly. I can teleport someone up with me, and then return back to ground level while they fall and splat on the ground. If I can move fast enough, I can surpass the speed of light.”

Verde smiled. “It won't be so smooth, though.”

“But it will be worth it,” Ietsuna insisted. “It's worth testing.”

“If you say,” Verde nodded. “So, about the gun you mentioned?”

“I'll leave it at home,” Ietsuna commented, sending another cube into the far wall with an ominous _crack_. “That gun is against the Swords and Firearms Control Law, so carrying it around would be even more troublesome if I were caught. As part of the Disciplinary Committee, I have to meet policemen, so it's even more dangerous. I don't know why, but I feel... something wrong going to happen.”

“The Vongola Hyper Intuition?” Mammon stated in interest.

Ietsuna rubbed his face. “I don't know. It's been starting after the earthquake just now, like there is something... pulling at me.”

“Ah, is it your worry for your brother?” Skull suggested.

“No, it's pulling in the opposite direction,” Ietsuna flung the last cube forward, blinking as it winked out with a _fwip_ and thudded onto the wall behind him. “Verde-sensei, do you think I could use needles instead? I could try to hide them in my clothes.”

“We'll carry out the tests with a body analogue next time,” Verde promptly replied. “But needles don't actually hurt people.”

“Erm...” Ietsuna regarded the ceiling. “I was thinking about teleporting them _into_ people. You know. As a threat.”

“Don't!” Skull wailed. “That's even more dangerous!”

Mammon sighed, and on her hood, Fantasma croaked. “I'm leaving...”

Oodako waved goodbye from the rather tiny aquarium some bright spark had deigned to stuff the octopus in.

* * *

“This is too dangerous,” Tsuna insisted. “Alouette-san needs help. Can't I sleep somewhere else instead, U-san?”

“Tsu-chan, I'm just asking if you don't mind the spare futon in Kyoya's room,” U dead-panned. “Ma is in the spare room with me, Lancia-san is crashing on our couch, Chrome-chan is using the other spare room, and we're expecting others soon. I know you know about our problem with crowds, but you're tiny enough not to count.”

“I'm, not good with nights and Hibari-san,” Tsuna confessed.

“Yes, skylarks are diurnal birds,” U agreed softly. “I assume that you _do_ mind spending a night together with my son in his room.”

“Yes...?” A quizzical head tilt made itself known.

“Because he presents a constant source of danger,” U nodded, half-murmuring to herself. “They say that girls like bad boys, but I don't know if it applies to boys as well...”

“I wouldn't call it like that, U-san. Actually, are you really supposed to say that about your son?”

There was a spark in U's eye that made any doubt about her parentage disappear. It was disturbing, Tsuna realised, how the old skylark's gaze of certainty looked in a face much closer to Hibari-san's. “Call it training to get over the suspension bridge effect5.”

“Eh?”

“You shouldn't misplace your affection, Tsu-chan,” U continued. “You need to be absolutely certain.”

“Y- Yes?”

“So, you need to sleep with my son.”

“Huh?!”

This was how Tsuna found himself on his back, wrapped in a futon, in the only  _washitsu 6_ in the Hibari home. Hibari stared down at the boy with an unreadable expression.

“I'm afraid of ruining your sleep and the consequences,” Tsuna babbled. “Ie says I snore...” He froze then, the large honey-coloured eyes flickering between the _shoji_ lattice that made up the north-facing wall of the house, and the _fusuma_ that made up the other three walls 7.

Anyone could read the desire to throw himself through the doors on Tsuna's expressive face. Hibari was no exception. “You will learn to desist.”

Tsuna hiccoughed. “Erm...”

“You will _learn_.”

“Yes, Hibari-san,” Tsuna laid back down. A muffled rustling of bedsheets indicated that Hibari had laid back down soon after.

“...I'm worried for Alouette-san,” Tsuna spoke up. “I think I'd better-”

“The old carnivore is asleep,” Hibari's silky diatribe cut him off. “You can't do anything for her as you are. Go to sleep.”

“That... may be true,” Tsuna admitted. “But I'm still worried. Alouette-san is strong like Hibari-san. That's why just now, her confusion is... frightening.”

“Hn.”

“It's worrying,” Tsuna continued, one hand flopping to his chest. “It's like... something is calling at me to move. Like there is something I need to find.”

“Hn.”

Tsuna hummed, staring at the ceiling. “Hibari-san... has a nice mother.”

“The mother carnivore keeps doing herbivorous things,” came the muffled reply. “The phone bill escalates each time she calls in from Hong Kong. The luggage bill escalates with each visit. She invites the Discipline Committee over for tea. It's noisy.”

“-.-' That's extraordinary, especially coming from Hibari-san...” Tsuna muttered. “But, that just shows that she cares about Hibari-san, right? Dad never called back to us, brought souvenirs, or talked about his job at all. U-san is busy, but I think she's really trying to be the best mother she can.”

“No, she's trying to poach members. You'd better not follow her.”

“Mmm...” Tsuna subsided into the soft bedding, eyes still open. “I wonder why we haven't met U-san until now-”

There was a gravity to Hibari's motion that usually allowed the Disciplinary Committee's general affairs manager to keep track and dodge the chairman. Said gravity was unfortunately put to very good use when a weight slammed into Tsuna, and sandwiched his body between the futon mattress and the quilt.

“Maybe you don't understand, herbivore, but right now you're weak and useless,” the hiss was punctuated with the shine of a tonfa in the darkness. “It is midnight. Go to sleep.”

“Yes!” Tsuna squeaked. “I'm very sorry!”

“Hn,” the weight climbed off of Tsuna and settled back down next to him, a warm presence on a cold night. “The mother carnivore doesn't stay in Japan for long. That city always needs discipline. Good night.”

“H- Hibari-san... good night.” Tsuna fidgeted, considered his dark surroundings. “Thanks... for the explanation.”

A moment later, Tsuna shifted closer to the prefect and closed his eyes.

* * *

It was sometime around midnight that Ietsuna turned to the laboratory. “Tsuna fell asleep.”

“How do you know?” Verde asked. In answer, Ietsuna pointed to his own flaming forehead. “Wait, you enter Dying Will Mode every time your twin sleeps?”

“Probably,” Ietsuna replied after a pause, nonplussed by the sudden revelation.

“Don't say 'probably', we need more concrete timings!”

“Well, since I lied to Tsuna that he snores so that he doesn't take naps in public, we have the same schedule, the same waking time and the same bedtime,” Ietsuna reasoned. “I can't sense if I enter Dying Will Mode when I'm asleep, but probably not, since Reborn hasn't interrogated me and my mother isn't freaking out about it. So it probably works only if I'm awake while Tsuna is asleep.”

“Verde-sempai, don't you think it might be because they're twins?” Skull volunteered. “Like, people sometimes say that twins share something between them.”

“So how many sets of identical twins do you know, who are sufficiently versed in Dying Will Flames, and are available for testing?” Verde groaned in frustration.

“Belphegor had an identical twin,” Skull volunteered. “I heard from Mammon.”

“The Varia psychos don't count,” Verde face-palmed. “Varia Quality would render all tests to be outliers.”

“Whatever. I'm going home,” Ietsuna dismissed.

“And what would your mother say?” Verde demanded. “Your head is on fire, boy.”

“I'll just be sneaky,” Ietsuna crossed his arms.

“Your house has the chief external advisor and the Poison Scorpion,” Verde pointed out. “You're not going to be sneaky enough.”

“Ah, I'll steal a hat.”

“You're a stubborn brat,” Verde sighed, pulling out a hat-box. “Luckily, I came prepared. But you're coming along to my next business meeting.”

“Eh?” Ietsuna blinked at the hat that Verde had tossed to him. It was black, with a high crown and a wide, stiff brim. “A cowboy hat?”

“It's a design based on the original Stetson prototype, which was called the Boss of the Plains,” Verde explained. “Your power is portals, not teleportation. That crazy stunt which broke my wall is the result of opening a portal within the wall and letting Newton's second law of motion take over with no frictional force. Using something to focus your power would improve your ability.”

“I see,” Ietsuna played with the hat. “Because this hat is round, it provides a shape for me to open a portal inside, right? It feels like a magician's hat.”

“Verde-sempai, what's that going to do?” Skull complained.

Glaring at the Cloud Arcobaleno, Verde drew a breath. “He's going to hide that his head is on fire.”

“Well...” Ietsuna frowned as he set the hat over his head, drawing it down over his forehead. “Is my head on fire?”

“No, you were right about Flames not actively holding destructive properties unless focused,” Verde replied. “You look normal.”

Ietsuna wrung his hands. “I don't like it. I don't look like Tsuna.”

“Grow up, boy. You and your twin are two different people.”

“But people are after Tsuna, and I need to be able to draw them away,” Ietsuna reasoned, still fingering the hat-band as he pondered the question.

“Ietsuna-san, you are also an heir of the Vongola,” Skull pointed out. “Your twin can take care of himself. He has six Guardians. Right now, shouldn't you care about yourself more? You don't even have one subordinate.”

“I... I just want Tsuna to be safe and happy,” Ietsuna shook his head. “If he wants the Vongola, he can have it. He doesn't want to be Boss in the first place. It's not his fault or his choice. Why can't anyone realise that?!”

“It's because this world is unfair,” Verde spoke up. “It doesn't matter what is anyone's choice. Your twin is being supervised by Reborn to take over the Vongola Famiglia, and Xanxus... did not qualify. That is how it is. Or he dies.”

“Then I hate the world!” Smoky black erupted, and the hat took on a distinct sheen like the star-studded velvet of night. “ _For his sake, I hate the world!_ ”

Glass cracked, and blue liquid spilled over Verde's bench. The scientist ignored this, distracted by the killing intent that had formed on the boy's face.

A few seconds later, Skull poked his head out of the desk that he had ducked behind. His form was still trembling. “W- What was that?!”

“That was us providing the superior argument, Skull,” Verde gravely replied. “You lost control. You did not want to acknowledge a truth, Sawada Ietsuna. He does not need you to do everything, however much you want to lend your hand. He is not you, and you are not him, no matter how you masquerade yourself. You are entitled to hate your brother sometimes.”

Ietsuna stared down. “...Sorry, Skull-san, Verde-sensei. I'm going home. See you tomorrow.”

“Ietsuna-san-!” The _fwip_ punctuated the ensuing silence. “He ran...”

Verde pensively regarded the spilled blue liquid. “I hope he'll be alright tonight.”

A waning crescent smiled in the blackness of night, the eventide lit with the stars above, and the lamps of civilisation here and there. The mountain path that led away from Namimori and towards Shimon Town was shrouded in darkness – the lights having become victims of the earthquake beforehand. In the darkness, there was a boy, slipping through rings of smoke and disappearing and reappearing over the roofs of town, leaving what could have been the tapestry of the stars trailing with every step.

The tapestry was banished as lights streaked the skies over Namimori in four colours, and Ietsuna stopped before this enchanted light, one hand still holding onto his new hat. “What the hell?”

The streaks of colour also lit another silhouette in the skies.

“What the hell?!” Ietsuna's breath caught as a scythe, wielded by a red-haired woman, swung towards him. He bowed forward, hands thrown forward to support his body through the back handspring, throwing his feet bodily into the scythe-wielder's middle. Having knocked the woman off-course, the scythe sliced through a set of red tiles, knocking them down.

Ietsuna set his feet back onto solid rooftop, the hardened rubber of his shoes and the skin of his fingers granting him purchase amidst the jangle of falling tile. “Nufufufu,” the woman giggled, picking up her scythe easily. “The Vongola Tenth, I see.”

“Oh, you're looking for me?” Ietsuna lied. “Sorry, I'm busy. Can you arrange something with my right hand-man? He's the Smoking Bomb, Gokudera Hayato.” _I hope this doesn't count as approval. I still don't like that bastard._ “The waiting period is about two months.”

“In the name of the Simon Famiglia, I will have revenge!” the woman shouted, brandishing her scythe. “Present your neck!”

“...” Ietsuna 's lips parted. “Oh.”

The scythe was slapped aside. In that small moment, Ietsuna had ducked and kicked herbetween the legs, before leaning in with a finger fan to the throat. Red hair fanned out as she dropped back, using the incline of the roof to duck the attack. She could not, however, duck the _chassé latéral_ kick directed at her skull that sent her reeling, the scythe's pommel digging through tiles barely saving her from tipping overboard.

“I haven't seen you around,” Ietsuna commented, squatting on the roof's apex. “If I didn't know the Simon Boss, I would believe it. Either way, you're _not_ part of the Simon, despite that red hair and whatever you say. Even if you were, I wouldn't believe anything you say.”

“Nufufufu,” the woman gloated as a blaze of indigo covered her hands and the scythe. “You're sharp, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“And there it is,” Ietsuna smirked as her face contorted, her pupils slipping to the sign of the spade ♠. “The final proof. If you were really part of the Simon, you would know that I'm not Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“You're _not_ Sawada Tsunayoshi?” the female voice deepened to a masculine tone. “That's not possible. There's only one Vongola Tenth, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Sawada Iemitsu only has one living child. The rest of the Sawada family's Flames are burning over there!”

“Your information sources suck, and so do your counting skills,” Ietsuna stuck his tongue out, pulling another knife from his pocket. “Die knowing that you went after the wrong target.”

“There should only be one heir of Primo left in this generation!” the woman screamed as they parried blows. “ _I killed the other one!_ ”

“So you did...” Ietsuna closed his eyes in a gesture of denial. “I'm the one you killed.”

* * *

At the Sawada house, Iemitsu silently tiptoed out of the master bedroom, and sidestepped the Poison Scorpion and her brother's debate about the late-night rom-com movie involving aliens – their current attempt at making up – and then slipping out to regard the illuminated skyline. A sleek black car rolled up to the gate, and Basil stepped out, a suit on a hanger in hand.

“Tonight,” Iemitsu declared seriously, taking up the suit to duck into the car as Basil got into the vehicle commander seat, “will be a busy night.”

The car peeled away, a silent conveyance into the dark of night.

“Why do we have a copy of _His Last Bow_ in our cars?” Basil asked the female driver spoke as she turned a corner, adjusting her spectacles with one hand.

“Excuse me, Oregano?” Iemitsu adjusted his cuff-links. “I didn't quite catch it.”

“The Sherlock Holmes book, Master,” Basil, currently riding shotgun, explained. “I shouldn't be speaking out of turn, but why does our every vehicle contain a copy of _His Last Bow_?”

“Ah...” Iemitsu fidgeted, pulling on his jacket. Changing in a car had never been one of his finer points. “No, Basil, you asked a valid question. It's a cautionary tale. I'm actually surprised that it didn't come up sooner. You see, before World War One, there was a traitor in the Family. Someone was sent to clean it up. The hitman not only managed to bungle things up, he got killed by his target and Scotland Yard was dragged in. So the founder of the External Advisors himself had to intervene, but at the end of it we got mentioned in that book.”

“ _What_?!” Basil exclaimed.

“Yes,” Iemitsu heaved as the car drew closer to the source of the lights that currently bathed the walled ground with colour, “that book is the reason why CEDEF became responsible for covering up everything that would violate Omertà on the Vongola's end; some _idiota_ flashed our emblem about. _Attenta, pericolo_ , red circle. That's our emblem.”

   
  
 

“Covering up Omertà got us mentioned in a literary classic?” Basil echoed in disbelief.

“Better than the Gorgiano guy,” Oregano shook her head as they pulled into the cemetery and the engine was shut off. “He had to face two angry skylarks.”

“Ushishishi,” Belphegor giggled in front of the four graves. “The external advisor peasants are late.”

“Oh, Bel-chan, don't aggravate them,” Lussuria cooed, albeit distracted by watching the beacons of Flames. “They're in big trouble if we hadn't interrupted that television broadcast. It would be troublesome if another situation like Squ-chan were to appear now.”

“Boss said to cover this up,” Levi grunted in reply. “Do we dig up all four of them?”

“Well, I'm the one whose actual family members are buried there,” Iemitsu stepped in, holding up his hands in a gesture of calm. “Oregano, find out the broadcast and get the tapes. Basil, keep a lookout for any keepers around. I presume that all witnesses-”

“We knocked them out,” Levi stolidly replied. “I would have killed them since Mammon is off-duty.”

“Levi-chan, wait!~” Lussuria scolded. “This is not Italy. We aren't fighting the GICO here8. If we did that, it's the opposite of _discretion_.”

Clicking his tongue in irritation at the bickering Varia officers, Iemitsu then approached the closest and newest of the four gaping maws created by the earthquake. Within the hollowed tombstone, the crackling green light danced like a static charge imprisoned and made visible, surrounding a core of orange light settled within the patterned urn. It looked like the late Sawada Ietsuna's glare, only halved.

“Good news,” Iemitsu announced. “The Flame is set inside this urn, so we just need to move them and patch up the damage. Check the others as well.”

“Ushishishi, they're all intact,” Belphegor sniggered as he poked his head in and out of the grave emitting red light, next to the one Iemitsu was currently moving. “Your grandfather has the Boss's Flames!”

“What?” Levi, momentarily distracted, snuck next to the grave. “T- This-! The Boss has brighter Flames than to- this badly-made copy!”

“Oi!” Iemitsu yelled back. “That's my grandfather!”

“I have an interest in that one,” Lussuria pointed to the third grave next to the oldest grave of the four, a weak yellow almost drowning in the orange light of the Sky Flames. “It's not visible, but clearly it's a hybrid of Sun and Sky Flames.”

“Actually, I'm not sure which is more amazing, ushishi,” Belphegor giggled. “That all of them have Sky Flames, or that there's a whole Family's worth of Flames in this graveyard. Mammon would be amazed.”

“I am, Bel,” Floating down, the Mist Arcobaleno just surveyed the scene.

“Mammon, are you done?” Lussuria cooed up to the floating baby.

“I just retrieved the tapes and wiped a few memories,” Mammon tonelessly replied. “There's nothing to do about what's already been broadcast. Luckily, there's nothing to connect the Flames to the Vongola except its location.”

Silently, Basil walked towards the CEDEF head. “Master, why dost thou bear thy troubles on thy face?”

Iemitsu grimaced, still holding onto the urn with the crackling lightning. “Fifteen years he's dead, and he's still being a pain,” came a chuckling grumble as he reached for the Flame. “We'll come back soon, old man-”

Iemitsu fell silent as the Flame made contact. A bat fluttered by, and was skewered for its trouble by Belphegor's thrown knife. A breeze shook a few trees.

“M- Master?” Basil pressed in concern. “Are you... alright?”

Iemitsu set down the urn with a definitive thud. “I saw a black Flame. My father was murdered by it! My _son_ was murdered by it!”

A storm of wildlife erupted from the surrounding trees. There was a shouted curse, grunts. In the night, a familiar brown-haired boy crashed against the last gravestone and knocked the urn aside before he burst with a smoky pitch-black.

* * *

_**1 The Cuban Missile Crisis, also known as the October Crisis, The Missile Scare, or the Caribbean Crisis, was a 13-day (October 14–28, 1962) confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union over Soviet ballistic missiles deployed in Cuba. It played out on television worldwide and was the closest the Cold War came to escalating into a full-scale nuclear war.** _

_**2 In August 1945, during the final stage of the Second World War, the United States dropped atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The two bombings, which killed at least 129,000 people, remain the only use of nuclear weapons for warfare in history.** _

_**3 The server of a sake set is a flask called a tokkuri (ja:** _ _**徳利** _ _**). A tokkuri is generally bulbous with a narrow neck, but may have a variety of other shapes.** _

4  _ **Additive colour is colour created by mixing a number of different light colours. So you start from black, and mix colours to get white. This is present in LCD screens and is how computers present images as the RGB model. Subtractive colour is the opposite; you start from white, and then add colours to take away visible wavelengths to get black in the end. This is present in commercial colour printing and painting as the CMYK model. In both schemes, black is understood as the**_ _ **absence**_ _ **of all colours, and white as the**_ _ **presence**_ _ **of all colours.**_

_**5 The suspension bridge effect is what happens when a person in danger makes a mistake in assuming what is causing them to feel aroused. In Tsuna's case, U is assuming that Tsuna is mis-attributing fear as arousal – both for Hibari. I don't think putting them in the same room would help things, though...** _

_**6 Washitsu (** _ _**和室** _ _**), meaning "Japanese-style room(s)", is a Japanese term used as an antonym for the term yōshitsu (** _ _**洋室** _ _**), meaning "Western-style room(s)."** _

7  _ **In traditional Japanese architecture, a shōji ( 障子) is a door, window or room divider consisting of translucent paper over a frame of wood which holds together a lattice of wood or bamboo. Fusuma (襖) are vertical rectangular panels which can slide from side to side to redefine spaces within a room, or act as doors. They typically measure about 90 centimetres (3.0 ft) wide by 1.8 metres (5'11") tall, the same size as a tatami mat, and are two or three centimetres thick.**_

8 _** Gruppo d'investigazione sulla criminalità organizzata (Organized Crime Investigation Group) acronym GICO, is a specialized department of the Italian Guardia di Finanza. Yes, in real life, anti-Mafia operations are handled by a military police force that has actually fought with valour in both World Wars and is equipped as light infantry (up to general purpose machine guns and 40mm grenade launchers) and has combat helicopters and small warships... and serve as tax evasion investigators.** _


	29. Folio 28: Vanitas

Hibari U concentrated on counting the stitches remaining on her left knitting needle, barely deigning to glance up when her sharp ears caught the ruckus coming from the kitchen of the Hibari household.

“It’s midnight,” she commented absently, sipping from her handle-less cup.

“I appreciate the reminder as to the propriety of the hour,” came the straightforward reply. Whether it was provocative or simply his nature, U never knew nor cared about that facet of her brother's attitude. There was something to being older, even if by scant minutes and by the fact that neither of them tore the other apart in their mother's womb so many years ago.

Only an experienced eye would have caught the imperceptible movement of U’s hands. The tiny speaker neatly dodged the thrown wooden needle, moving to scoop up a squeaking bundle of white fur with a tail and a peach-shaped face in his sweep.

“Didn’t we agree that Lichi was off limits?” Fon cradled his companion in his small arms, trying to soothe the supernaturally gifted monkey.

“I wasn’t aiming for the rat.” U put down the cerulean scarf strung between the twin steel needles looped in her hands. Tangled strands of yarn hung loosely, like some woollen web that knotted even the winds. Fon could sympathise with the inanimate strings; his own strings of fate were the tangled playthings of others, from the mysterious man who cursed them all in the first place, to keeping ties with his family via the absent, if accepting, sister that dominated much of his early life.

“The Vongola heir is here,” Fon stated, deciding to ignore his sister’s petulant whims. As far as he knew, she did not know the difference between a knit and a purl.

“Yes. And no.”

Ever the mathematician, was U.

“I am not in the mood for your games.” Fon held up a frosted chicken in one hand, and a bulging grocery bag in the other. The forest-green cloth monstrosity was incongruously large, compared to his toddler-sized body. “I need to help to de-bone this chicken.”

U finally looked up at him, the boy who looked much the same as he always did. Albeit, Fon was much smaller now, than when the Lei family – suddenly reduced by one – had escaped Phnom Penh, cut through Vietnam, and made it to Hong Kong in the seventies. Fēng wore the bright red that had only been allowed to him in adulthood, his trademark colour. The carmine millstone that prevented his return glinted ominously in the artificial lighting.

It would be simple enough to destroy it... _if_ Fon held still. Somehow his brain had shrunk along with his body, U decided, if Fon thought that U considered him even worthy of killing in his current state.

“ _Tom yum_ soup? Don’t be an idiot. Everyone knows that you keep the chicken bones for extra protein.”

“Who says I’m making _tom yum_ soup?” Fon retorted peevishly. “I could be making chicken soup. Or chicken ravioli.”

U gave him an unimpressed look. “You've always been _mentally negligent_ – of course – but if you think you can just come back and declare yourself the son of Alouette Lei, Ma would cry foul. You were gone for two decades to her. So you must prove yourself. You know that Ma is here and you've made it a point to avoid her for about twenty years since you physically became a baby. You went shopping. I cam smell the chillies – which is a good effort, because it is November in Japan and there are no chillies growing anywhere close. It's not hard to conclude that you brought the ingredients for the dish that fed us as we escaped Kampuchea, _Fēngzi_ 1, and that chicken will be the base of the soup stock.”

“... Fine. I’m making _tom yum_ soup,” Fon admitted. “ Only for Ma. You’re getting none of it.”

“Bah, who wants to subject themselves to your nuclear waste, anyway?” came the silky reply.

“Don’t confuse your tasteless sludge with my dishes, dear sister.”

“It’s your Sichuan cuisine that has too much flavour,” U snapped back. “Normal people don’t like having a ton of spices in one spoonful.”

“Not everyone likes meatporridge with century egg, either,2” Fon retorted. “Also, _t_ _om yum_ is served everyday in Southeast Asia.”

“Yes,” U said blandly. “But we are in Japan. It is a temperate country currently in the middle of winter.”

“Ma loves spicy food anywhere, any time.”

“If you want to worsen her health, then be my guest.”

The air filled with killing intent from one of the most dangerous, deadly people in the world. Lichi squeaked and hid himself in a cupboard.

“You're only older than me by twelve minutes, Yǔ. Are you trying to provoke me?”

“Of course not. I'm not trying, dear brother. I _am_ provoking you.”

“You do remember the last time you roused the proverbial sleeping dragon, do you not?” Fon quietly met her eyes, his shadow lengthening on the kitchen floor despite there being no visible shift in the position of the light overhead. “Are you prepared for the consequences?”

“You think too highly of yourself,” U said. “To be compared to the noble dragon? You're a storm, but you're hardly a twister.3”

“Then I will not hold back,” Fon warned. “And neither should you. Or will we play rock-paper-scissors again to determine the winner?”

“The last time we used that game to decide anything, you became a baby,” U snarled. “How did this happen? It was supposed to be one last, chaperoned job for Ma. Not this meaningless... _thing_. This title, the world's seven strongest infants, and it cost us one of our clan.”

Fon contemplated those words, consternation brushing across his face as it twisted and marred before he sucked in a breath.

“I find myself... thankful,” came the hesitant answer. “If Ma had not had that first brush with cancer, and if I had lost our game to decide who takes her place... it would be our mother and you who are the infants, and holding the meaningless titles as the children of the cloud and the rain.”

“I am merely an Arcobaleno,” Fon depreciated. “You are the Qingniao of Hong Kong, matriarch of the Hibari clan, terror of the Difo Family, the nexus of a web that spans the Asia-Pacific, which could oust even the Vongola, depending on the circumstances. You and your son are a greater credit to our mother than I am currently.”

“You are crazy,” U finally spoke. “That is why Kyoya and I calls you _Fēngzi_. You are our madman.”

“Speaking of my nephew...” Fon cautiously changed the subject. “Is it truly a good idea to have Kyoya and young Vongola share a room?”

“They were still alive, the last time I checked,” U said, fiddling with the tangled yarn.

Neither of them brought up the serious subject that they had somehow deviated away from; it had been brought out, dusted, found wanting, and buried as quickly as it had been brought up. The matter had somehow been settled in the only way things could be settled in this family of birds.

“Kyoya, like many members of our family, is incredibly averse to sharing space with another human being,” Fon noted. “It’s not the poor boy’s fault, of course. Our clan is tiny.”

“Oh, then whose fault is it?” U said with a glare that foretold of pain or the promise thereof. “Mine?”

“Only if I’m trying to imply that it is our mother’s fault that you are equally averse to human interaction,” Fon retorted. “Really, Kyoya's guest could easily be bitten to death come morning.”

U shrugged. “The house lacks the necessary rooms to let each boy sleep separately.” She gestured at the large expanse of the Western-style living room, which was only a small portion of their mansion-like residence. “Maybe.”

“That sounds like a bad excuse to put them in the same room,” Fon pursed his lips, finding the excuse weaker than U's last attempt at meat porridge with century egg. The only thing of taste in that meal had been the century egg. “What horrible excuse did you use to convince the young Vongola to room with Kyoya? Rather, what did you bribe my nephew with to tolerate the presence of another human being for tonight?”

“...I do not have to answer your questions,” U muttered at the needles in her lap and the laughing monkey that tumbled out of the cupboard it had been hiding in. “Shut up, Lichi.”

“Dare I ask _why_?”

The about-face of emotions  made U seem less like one of the clan of skylarks, and more like a mother  eager to see her socially-stunted child get chummy with another living creature . “Tomorrow he gets to see his grandmother beat up his uncle! That sort of thing is always more enjoyable with an audience.”

Fon sighed. “ You are the only thing in this world that  drives me up the wall .  The longer I’ve been in Japan, the more I remember  this  reason why we need the Straits of Hong Kong to separate us,  except during this time of crisis . How bad is Ma’s... condition?”

“...” U put down her knitting needles, the tips of which an unknown brown substance flaked off of. The flakes stood out against the acrylic white of her French tips. “Well, you’re not too late, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I was certainly too late to stop you from stabbing our mother!” Fon shouted back. “ _Ma_!”

The needles dropped as U had to physically tackle the world's strongest martial artist from charging into the spare bedroom.

* * *

In one of the spare rooms, Chrome blinked up unseeingly at the ceiling. It was quiet, interrupted only by the occasional snore or mutter.

Next to the teenager, Alouette shifted restlessly in her sleep. “Idiot, taking the last copy of Jump... I will pluck you to...”

“I have little experience with family dynamics, seeing as my own parents were happy to sell me off as a science experiment to the first bidder, but doesn’t the Hibari family seem incredibly dysfunctional?” Mukuro said into the quiet.

Fortunately, Chrome was used to having Mukuro’s illusionary body pop up next to her at seemingly random moments, or else she would have shattered the night with her startled yell. “Mukuro-sama!”

“The grandmotheris a demonwearing the disguise of a harmless old lady,” Mukuro listed. “Her daughter carries knitting needles strapped to her thighs, despite the fact that she can’t knit. Her son has been transformed into a baby and hasn’t spoken with the old bird in years. Somehow, the three of them are the formative adult presences in the life of a veritable Asura. The old witch must have done something in her past in Southeast Asia.4”

“M- Mukuro-sama, Alouette-san is not a demon,” Chrome said timidly.

“Hmm,” Mukuro responded absently. “Daemon Spade.... What an unusual name. This is what the old witch called the mysterious enemy?”

“Yes,” Chrome said, nodding her head. “Mukuro-sama, is-is there a reason you are projecting your illusion here? Won’t you get tired?”

“But I just wanted to see my precious Chrome,” Mukuro said. “I have a feeling that the trouble with this Daemon Spade is not concluded. Where are Ken and Chikusa?”

“A- Asleep?”

“I see,” Mukuro blandly pronounced. “And the cause of their slumber?”

“Erm,” she said uncomfortable. “Ken, Chikusa, Lancia-san, and Hana-san came over. Hana-san made hot chocolate, and Ken and Chikusa drank Lancia-san’s portion. They had no idea he had, ah, medicinally altered it.”

“Ken is a dog who would eat anything in front of him, that much is clear,” Mukuro caught on dismissively. “What about Chikusa? I thought Chikusa had more common sense than that.”

“They had a drinking competition,” Chrome explained. “Lancia-san egged them on before he realized that they were drinking his hot chocolate. He escorted Hana-san home when Ken started singing _enka_.”

Chrome blushed and giggled. “I never knew he had that kind of talent. I don't think Boss or Hibari-san knew that... either.”

“Hmm...” Mukuro hummed. “Well, it's nothing to do with- oh, you're awake.”

“Alouette-san!” Chrome brightened as the old woman stiffly sat up. “Are you alright?!”

“ _C'est terrible,_ ” Alouette groaned, yawning. “Oh, I'm alive. What happened?”

“A ghost named Daemon Spade possessed a woman with red hair and attacked us,” Chrome explained. “Lancia-san chased them off, and we returned to your house to celebrate. Boss and Hibari-san and U-san showed up and made you go to sleep. The hot chocolate might have helped with that.”

“Interesting,” Alouette said absently, most of her attention focused on fluffing her pillows.

“Old witch!” Mukuro sharply intervened before Alouette's priorities were shifting towards a good night's sleep. “You’re not going back to sleep. _Until_ you explain who Daemon Spade was, and why he was trying to kill you.” He poked Alouette’s forehead with a surprisingly tangible illusionary hand for emphasis.

“Stop talking, you pineapple nightmare,” Alouette groaned, flopping back onto her pillows now that they were the right degree of fluffy. “My head hurts.”“A- Alouette-san! That’s the worst thing to say to Mukuro-sama, no matter how accurate it is!”

“Chrome-chan, you too?!” Mukuro cried out in despair.

“Ugh, your illusions are too loud, pineapple brat,” Alouette complained into her pillow. Her hand reached out and plucked another pillow from out of Mukuro’s hands before he could lob it at her. “If you have time to figure out how to make tangible illusions, then you have time to study up on your enemies.”

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Mukuro began testily, “my physical body is in the tender mercies of Vendicare. Where in the world am I going to be able to find information on Daemon Spade?”

“Daemon Spade?” Alouette repeated. “I haven’t heard that name in so many years.

“Yes, yes, who is he?” Mukuro asked impatiently.

“You have the same face,” Alouette muttered, her eyes closed as she prepared for slumber once more. “You’re both pricks with chips on your shoulders the size of Mount Fuji. I guess it makes sense that you’d look alike.”

Chrome started. “Erm, Alouette-san, you're too confrontational...”

Mukuro groaned in frustration when his hands passed through Alouette’s arm. “I will strangle you, hag. I will haunt your dreams. I will make sure you never get a good night's sleep again.”

On the chair next to the bed, Chrome hid her giggles in the palm of her hand.

Alouette pried an eye open. “I’m not going to get any sleep until I tell you about Daemon Spade, am I?”

“No,” Mukuro bluntly replied.

Alouette sighed, sitting back up in the bed. “I wasn’t kidding about the similarities between you and Daemon Spade, Mukuro-chan. Daemon Spade _was_ the First Generation Mist Guardian in the Vongola, and the only Sicilian aristocrat of a rather international selection. A Sicilian commoner, a half-Neapolitan hoodlum, a Japanese samurai, a Piedmont lordling, a Corsican boxer-turned-priest, an aristocrat of the falling Sicilian society, and a secret agent of Anglo-Swiss descent turned French by spilled blood 5.

“It was a time of great upheaval. Things are complicated. Something happened that caused most of the First Generation to split up and go their separate ways. Two guardians remained. Daemon became Vongola Secondo’s Mist. That was one. The other was Papi. He was the First Generation Cloud Guardian, and he founded the External Advisors to ensure that the internal power balance within Vongola was maintained. They hated each other, just like my grandson and you. Good night!”

“Witch-”

“I was kidding,” Alouette set down her pillow. “Papi and Daemon never got along, and the feud continued until they died. I myself met him in person as a young girl, near the end of the war. By then, age had caught up to Papi and his rival, although their minds were as sharp as ever. Daemon Spade died, and was buried.”

“Well, he’s obviously not dead now,” Mukuro pointed out. “It seems that Daemon Spade had abandoned his original body at that time and transformed himself into something of a wandering spirit.”

“I know,” Alouette agreed. “Years after his first death, I... _met_ him again in Cambodia. I thought for sure that he had died his final death then, but I suppose the rules are different for spirits and ghosts and madmen.”

“But why is he attacking you now, Alouette-san?” Chrome asked.

“Yes, old bird,” Mukuro said silkily. “You didn’t mention that my dear Chrome-chan would be in trouble, because of old enemies coming after you.”

“It’s not me he’s after,” Alouette said heavily. “I never thought much about Papi. But, Daemon revealed something, thinking that I would die soon. Instead, I escaped and cast him into oblivion.”

She took a breath. “He wanted to make Vongola the strongest Famiglia in the world. I do not know why, but it is apparently what keeps him tethered to the living world and makes him such a dangerous enemy. Through continued possessions of different bodies throughout the years, he has shaped the Vongola and the history of the world in different ways.

“I met him again more than twenty years later, in Cambodia. We fought. He and his illusions were strong, and he fought dirty. He killed my husband and my child. I won in the end. I threw him into the site of a mass grave, buried under many dead civilians.”

“A mass grave would indeed erode his sense of self over time under the grudges of its inhabitants,” Mukuro pondered. “He probably escaped, with his grudge and desire keeping him together. Such a dangerous enemy. Don't tell me he caused-”

“I don't know,” Alouette reflected. “The war was spies vs spies. Papi and Daemon Spade certainly were players in the backdrop, but so was the Papacy, Cesare Mori, and the war. War is a means of negotiations, and the world had a lot of things to negotiate over.”

“Good,” Mukuro said. “If you had told me the Mafia caused the World Wars, I would have even more motivation to destroy the Mafia and burn it to the ground.”

“Not the world wars, but certainly the Cold War,” Alouette recalled. “The Mafia was- _is_ very strongly anti-Communist. The currents of fate made us meet in what was formerly Indochina when I followed my husband to Asia for a while. We were on the same ideological side. I didn't realise it was him, or him possessing someone, until...” she waved. “We met tonight. Actually, I think he was surprised to run into me again. Alive, too!”

Two blank faces stared at Alouette.

“Stop worrying so much,” Alouette airily dismissed. “When I die, it will not be at the hands of a mentally unstable ghost with an obsessive need to cackle menacingly.”

“But your life is still at stake,” Mukuro was frowning. “You need to take better care of yourself. How did you beat him last time?”

There was a deep breath. An exhaled chuckle made itself apparent. “Irrelevant. I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Mukuro-chan~”

Chrome spoke up. “Is he out for revenge against Alouette-san?”

“No,” Alouette waved her hand. “He just needs to wait for me to die of old age, and then no one would remember him. He is pragmatic. In that sense, he's just like Mukuro-chan.”

“If your life is currently at stake, so is the freedom of my associates,” Mukuro noted. “It would be folly to rely on the generosity of either Vongola heir at the moment. It is currently in my interests that you remain alive.”

“Don't state the obvious, pineapple brat,” Alouette huffed, as she traced her bared thigh and the tourniquet around it. “You also want me dead once you're out of Vendicare.”

Chrome had just about as much experience with family dynamics as Mukuro, but she suddenly realized that perhaps this sort of bickering was similar to how some families showed affection. Or, perhaps this was how the skylarks showed affection.

“Even if I wanted you dead, hag,” Mukuro sneered over her choking sounds, “it would not be by fighting the Mauviette. It is easier to wait until the chemotherapy takes your physical strength.”

“You have far too low an opinion of me, pineapple brat.” Alouette fired back. Are you alright, dear Chrome? You keep choking.”

“You didn’t give my associates shelter _just_ because Sawada Tsunayoshi requested it of you,” Mukuro reasoned. “Our freedom does not hinge upon Sawada Ietsuna’s good graces. You would do what you wanted regardless.”

“Be careful, little owl,” Alouette warned, levity turning into something with sinister undertones. “You’re speaking of the ones I owe the most.”

“This _game_ ,” Mukuro practically spat out. “is not theirs. Nor is it mine, or yours, or even Daemon Spade’s. You control most of the pieces on the board, old bird. As formidable as he seems, even he seems to approach with caution around you. There is something you’re keeping back, something important.”

Alouette said nothing, picking at one of the bandages that covered her arms.

“You’ve been remarkably obliging with your resources on Oriental occult practices, instead of the Occidental,” Mukuro mused. “You’ve been remarkably obliging with us in general, if one were to take your grandson’s general attitude as the normal behaviour of your family members. You cannot have lived to such an age without experiencing the horrors of history; you cannot have survived without facing the worst of yourself and embracing it. You showed absolutely no fear or revulsion towards Chrome’s illusions, or my abilities of possession. One would think you would display more caution, after witnessing what Daemon Spade is capable of. I can only think that you yourself have dabbled in the black arts once.”

Alouette pondered at her tourniquet, scratching at the dried blood.

“It is worrying,” Mukuro imparted. “Because Daemon Spade is after you, and I need you right now. But I will not expose my associates and myself to unknown forces rashly.”

“You have a right to know, if it threatens the safety of you and yours,” Alouette replied after a moment of eternity passed in grave silence. “It might. It might not. I cannot say it, though. I wish to remain outside of Vendicare.”

Mukuro was silent. “You do not fear Vendicare. Inside or outside it makes little difference to yourself, witch.”

“It will make a difference to my wandering son when he returns,” Alouette reflected. “I will not risk the freedom of my person until he returns.”

“It is against your nature, hag,” Mukuro scolded.

The grand dame glared at the illusion, her gaze searing and bright like the eyes of a supercell thunderstorm. It was unflappable and decisive, even in fading away. “I do what I want.”

Nodding in affirmation, grey eyes slid to the windows. “The sky is bright tonight.”

* * *

Under the aforementioned colourful skies, green had mostly been bleached out. A Flame sparked, with a buzzing not unlike a hive of bees centred around the stone container on Ietsuna's middle. The boy himself shrugged, ducking under another swing from the assassin's scythe to drop-kick the tang. The toe of the scythe dug into the earth, and the woman let go of its grips to dodge another _fouetté_.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Ietsuna yelled angrily. “What are you doing with those graves? That’s the family you’re exhuming!”

“It’s a long story!” Iemitsu yelled back. “Why are you yelling at me, anyway?”

“Because everything is your fault, you shitty old man!”

Ietsuna dodged yet another swipe of his opponent’s scythe, clinging to the urn in his arms.

“Do you really have the time to talk?!” the red-haired woman taunted. The sign of the Spade burned añil in her eyes against the bright warmth that lit the cemetery.

“That's a sign of possession,” Mammon quickly warned, hovering above. “She's being possessed. Avoid killing or permanently injuring the woman. Look at her eyes – that sigil, it’s a sign of possession. Whatever’s controlling her body would just jump to another vessel should the current one be destroyed.”

Ietsuna nodded, turning on one heel to back away. The Lightning Flame crackled as he set the carefully protected urn back on its ruined pedestal. Spikes of green St Elmo's fire branched out, multi-coloured heralds in the dim backdrop. The woman flickered about the graveyard, pausing at the night time spectacle lighting up the heavens.

“Giotto’s Flames still burn so brightly,” she said in a soft, wondering tone. “As do the Flames of his descendants. His will lives on, I see.”

“Eh? Ieyasu-jiisan? You knew him?” Ietsuna asked, curious in spite of himself. Almost instinctively, he glanced towards the orange flame at the far end of the row of graves.

“Knew him? Oh yes, I knew him well,” the woman agreed. For a moment, her face softened, almost like reflecting on a moment once upon a dream. The tenderness faded as quickly as a dream would upon awakening. “He was a fool. Now, it is easy to despise him. Ah,” she paused to let the hail of knives and swords and other sharp implements to pass through her suddenly incorporeal body. “It seems as if you brought reinforcements. I bid you all _arrivederci_.”

She disappeared in a haze of indigo flames.

“Nice guy,” Ietsuna said absently. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. “Kozato-san? I was just attacked by an assassin that claimed to be from the Simon Famiglia. No, of course not, I didn’t believe it for a moment. It was a woman – red hair, a lot like yours, eyes with spades in them – so I was just checking up on you. Is everyone at home and accounted for? Really. I’m not sure what’s going on, so keep yourselves safe. Yes, hmm, good night.”

“The Simon Famiglia?” Iemitsu asked incredulously. “They’re involved in this? Not Rokudo Mukuro?”

“It’s not Rokudo Mukuro either,” Mammon added. “His skill set is… unique, and has nothing to do with this sort of possession. Pay me and I will tell you more.”

Iemitsu spluttered in outrage but Ietsuna simply walked up, a fat wallet stuffed with cash in hand. “Tell us everything you know, without weaselling for more money, and you can have this with all of its contents. Cash, credit cards, security cards, pass codes, everything.”

“Not enough, brat,” Mammon said, shaking his head. “The pass-codes are virtually useless because they can easily change, credit cards can be quickly cut off, and the current exchange rate between the Yen and the Euro isn’t favourable. Whose is that, anyway?”

“But it’s the Chief External Advisor’s useless pass-codes,” Ietsuna wheedled, his back to Iemitsu's double-take and rapidly increasing fury. “There’s more than just money in what I’m offering. I’m betting there’s some sort of blackmail material in here. Save it for a rainy day; you never know when you might need it.”

Mammon eyed the rapidly purpling face of Sawada Iemitsu, and mentally conceded that there was a sense of _schadenfreude_ in having something, no matter how minuscule, to hold over CEDEF’s head.

“Oh my, the boy’s got quite the silver tongue on him,” Lussuria swooned, giggling. “Which one is he? The heir or the spare?”

“Ushishishi, if we can’t even tell apart the future Vongola from his twin, then it doesn’t really even matter, does it?” Belphegor snarked. “They can trade places and no one would know.”

Lussuria warily eyed Bel’s clenched grip on his favourite knife. Identical twins were something of a minefield for Bel; of course the Sawada twins would set off his neuroses. Mammon’s recent disappearing act wasn’t helping either.

“This deal isn’t going to be available forever, Mammon-san,” Ietsuna warned. “Take it or leave it within the next two minutes. I’ve got an assassin to hunt.”

“Oi, you’re not going anywhere!” Iemitsu suddenly spoke up. “You are going home and to bed. Leave the assassins for the experienced people, like me.”

“Whatever, old man. You have no right to order me around-”

“I’m your father!” Iemitsu shouted.

“I don’t think people who try to murder their kids can really be called parents,” came the quick retort.

“I’ll take it,” Mammon said hastily, interjecting herself into the rapidly deteriorating face-off between father and son. It had been a long day, a long week, even, and he had no desire to witness even more family drama. “Why are you so eager to go after him, anyway?”

Ietsuna paused, thinking. “I think the Simon Famiglia is being set up. I owe them a lot; Kozato-san for being my agent, and Enma for being a... friend.”

“Ietsuna-dono?” Basil voiced out, his eyes hard as they bore at Ietsuna. “I do not think defying Master is a good move. Desist at once.”

“I owe Kozato-san,” Ietsuna repeated. “I owe Enma. I must pay my debts.”

* * *

It was a dream again, he was sure, since he was floating in the skies. The sun kept rising and setting in his view, and the only visible delay of time's passage was the pauses of dusk and dawn, always with a single star gleaming close to the Sun.

Under the skies of dawn and dusk, the rosy colours spread under Tsuna's bared feet. Tsuna distantly felt a certain embarrassment at floating around in oversized pyjamas.

“You have formed quite the trouble, _carusu_. 6”

Tsuna turned towards the voice, and came face to face with a young man. Blonde hair jutted out in spikes, surrounding a gentle face and ochre eyes that seemed to hold an infinite weariness that belied his age. There was nothing particularly striking about him at first glance, but Tsuna felt compelled by his presence. The man was clad in a pinstripe suit; oddly enough, the cape attached only added to an indescribable aura of power and compassion in a heady, addictive mix.

Tsuna blinked, and then he noticed the bright orange crystalline flame resting serenely on the man’s forehead. The sun’s illuminating rays pierced through the flame, casting it into various shades of aureate fractals.

“The Dying Will Flame...” Tsuna realised. “Who are you? Is this a dream? An illusion?”

“Who knows,” the man replied, and in a show of relaxed care, chose to crouch down until his eyes were at Tsuna's level. “Well, there's no tea, but a good friend of mine always says _ichi-go ichi-e 7, _so this is also a meeting to treasure..”

“Oh...” Tsuna reflected. “My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

The man smiled. “My name is Giotto.”

* * *

“I feel a bit useless.”

“That's not true!” Adelheid spoke up immediately in the midst of unpacking sets of futon covers.

Ietsuna's call to the Simon Famiglia directly after the sinister yearning awakened in their souls had awoken had led to a decision to group together in the living room. Shitt P. had suggested that they made it a slumber party; hence the extra bedsheets, the couch leaning onto one side, and Makoto setting aside a few precious art pieces. The question had suddenly come up after Makoto had started moving the room's centrepiece: a bust bearing a single long weathered dark bead hanging on a string, with white markings traced over it in patterns, red dots present here and there.

“Uncle?” Rauji drawled, looming over the pair. “Do you need help?”

“I'm fine,” Makoto looked up to the burly boy and missing Adelheid's consternation. “Sorry. I just...”

“Ah, Uncle,” Kaoru volunteered. “That's the really overpriced rock, right?”

“It's a dzi bead, Kaoru,” Makoto shook his head in amusement. “I got it in Vietnam about five years back, before we found all of you. It's supposed to be a protective amulet against curses.”

“What are we doing?” Julie mocked, walking into the living room with a futon rolled under each arm. “What is that?”

“Ah, its total value comes in at around five hundred thousand Yen8,” Makoto cavalierly said as Shitt P. walked in. The astronomical figure made her drop the stack of pillows she held with a loud trill.

“Papa, are you showing off that rock again?” Mami complained as she followed Enma into the room. “You got cheated.”

“I got it for free,” Makoto self-depreciatingly shrugged. “It was at a monastery in Ho Chi Minh City where I helped authenticate some Buddhist murals that could have dated from the French colonial period. The abbot gave it to me with his sincere blessing. These beads are called the Pearl of Heaven in China and Japan.9”

“I think it's amazing,” Enma piped up, taking a step forward. The futons thumped onto the ground, thankfully breaking Enma's sudden fall. Adel rushed to his side in an instant, fussing over the red-haired boy.

Makoto frowned, before lifting the stone by its string and wrapping it around his wrist. “Well, things like these are meant to be worn.”

“In the end,” the last of them, Koyo, appeared in a blaze of carrying several more futons, “you guys are still doing the dumbest things.”

“Shut up, Koyo!” Mami snapped.

“It doesn't suit me, I see. Thank you, Koyo,” Makoto easily replied after reading in between the lines. “It's going to be cold. Does anyone want hot chocolate?”

“In the end, Uncle's hot chocolate is the best!” Koyo fiercely proclaimed at the mention of hot chocolate.

“He's like a child,” Julie commented.

Adel nodded, still checking over Enma. “Enma, do you feel pain anywhere?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine!”

Enma's diatribe was cut as knocking resounded on the front door. “Who's knocking at this hour?” Makoto commented as he walked and threw it open. “M- Mamie?! What happened to you?”

“Mama?!” Enma struggled to his feet as his father threw open the chain-latch and the door to reveal a red-haired, green-eyed woman. A cut above her blackened right eye bled down like tears, and everyone in the Simon Famiglia watched as the sigil of a spade flickered in her abnormally enlarged right eye, like a veritable sun.

Makoto slammed the door shut. “Get back!”

The door collapsed in two slices as all eight children rushed to the opposite end of the living room – Enma dragging a reluctant Mami behind him. Makoto swallowed as he found himself face-to-face with the assassin supposedly setting up his family, the spade sigil flickering back and forth.

“R- Run...!” Kozato Mamie choked.

“I- I cannot leave the children.” Makoto shook in fear. “Enma, get them out of here.”

The spade flared, and the choking stopped before the listless assassin brought down his scythe. Makoto cried out, lifting his arm – and with it the dzi bead still on its string.

The bead burst into flames of ochre, lifting everything and everyone within the house. The scythe swung off course, embedding itself into a wall as its wielder shrieked, clawing at the wall. Flames of indigo flared in answer, before she clawed out at Makoto, drawing blood.

“Papa!” Enma cried out.

“Uncle!” Adelheid leapt into the fray, drawing bladed fans. The fans met the scythe, biting in before Adelheid lifted her foot and kicked out. “Hurry up and save Uncle, Shittopi-chan!”

“ _Tweet_!”

Shitt P. and Julie dived towards the man, before Rauji bodily placed himself as a wall to drag the older man behind. Koyo and Kaoru looked at the wreckage, retrieved the broken pieces of the door, and started to advance on their home invader with identical expressions of rage while holding the makeshift weapons ready.

“Best. Investment. Ever,” Makoto woozily proclaimed up to Shitt P. as he was dragged behind Rauji. The dzi bead, charred off of its string, fell into Enma's palm.

“Uncle's broken!” Shitt P. loudly proclaimed.

“I- I got the first aid kit!” Enma's voice shook as he reached to his side and started as he found nothing. “W- We've got to get Papa out. Mami, come and help- Mami!” Enma yelled as his sister got away by climbing onto Rauji. “What are you doing?!”

“Fighting, Nii-sama,” the Kozato daughter gave a small smile before she leapt off of Rauji to lash out with an axe kick at her possessed mother. The result missed as the assassin dodged away, but dug splintered craters into the parquet flooring. From the hand signals that Mami was indicating to Kaoru next, Mami clearly had a plan.

Enma opened, and closed, his mouth, before he considered the situation. “...Shittopi-chan, our survival will be more assured if you can trap Ma- whatever is in Mama.”

Shitt P. mimed applause, and then indicated the clock.

“That means... Kaoru and Koyo must keep him busy, or we have to lure him,” Enma frowned. “...Adel, I need you to regroup. And to tell me if this plan works, because it's crazy. A- And... I don't know what else to do, but please, I- I just want that thing to go away, so I- I'm a lousy Boss, and I-”

“Enma,” Shitt P. stared at him evenly. “Your orders?”

“Enma,” Adel waited.

T he red-haired Boss considered for a brief moment, some light of dawn beginning to spark in his eyes. “Thank you. Now, this is what we are going to do...”

* * *

_**1 It's a pun. Fēngzi ( 疯子 ) means 'madman', and it's also a homonym for Fon's name, Fēng ( 风 ). ** _

_**2 This debate is actually very complicated, because Chinese cuisine is very varied and the two are advocating opposite sides of the palate spectrum. Sichuan cuisine is the subset of cuisine that uses spices, and has a unique numbing spiciness as its main palate. A famous dish from this is mapo tofu, which is canonically Fon's favourite. Meat porridge with century egg, on the other hand, is a Teochew dish – the 'century egg' is egg wrapped in natron mud and left to pickle, until it becomes black and the yolk is greyish. Century egg is salty, and it goes well with the light meal of chicken porridge.** _

_**3 This is another bilingual pun: twister in Chinese is written as  龙卷风. Literally 'dragon-twisting wind'.** _

_**4 In Japanese, I imagine that Mukuro employed the word 'kijo' instead of the usual 'baba'; that is, he used 'demon woman' instead of the usual 'old woman'.** _

_**5 In the French Foreign Legion, foreigners join and receive a new identity in signing up. If they are injured in the line of duty, they can apply for French citizenship via a procedure called “French by spilled blood”** _

_**6 SCN (Sicilian): boy. (Only 2.5% of Italy's population could speak the standardized language properly when the nation unified in 1861. Giotto would be speaking Sicilian in that time, not Italian.)** _

_**7 Ichi-go ichi-e ( 一期一会): a Japanese idiom that describes a cultural concept of treasuring meetings with people. Often translated as "for this time only" or "one chance in a lifetime," the term reminds people to cherish any gathering that they take part in, citing the fact that many meetings are not repeated. Even when the same group of people get together again, a particular gathering will never be replicated and thus, each moment is always once-in-a-lifetime.** _

_**8 I saw a few Dzi beads while holidaying in Sichuan, and I can say that yes, dzi beads can command quite a lot, because they're generational heirlooms. Tibetan people regard them as equal to jewels in value, especially since dzi beads supposedly bring good luck.** _

_**9 Dzi beads are called  天珠 (tianzhu) or 'heaven pearls' in Chinese and Kanji.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dioscuri is now the highest-reviewed, favoured, alerted, and community-alerted fic in my entire portfolio! YAY! In celebration, let's have another drabble! – LLS


	30. Folio 29: Terribilità

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A/N: Leafy is busy with studying for her CPA, so she won't be doing the beta for this chapter, so I’ll be writing alone until October. With that said, I need another temp beta to help me check for quality, please. Applicants can PM me! – LLS

 

“Say,” Kaoru spoke up when Mami decided to enter the fray, “do you have a plan?”

Mami cracked her knuckles in answer, eyeing her possessed mother. “...I'll hold Mama down. We'll figure out something later.”

“In the end, the plan is to use Mami's monstrous strength.” Koyo sighed. “It's not worth it in the end.”

“You have a better idea? Koyo, I won't forgive you if you attacked Auntie!” Kaoru quickly added.

“Oh, and I thought the Yankee batter would be all over it.” retorted the boxer.

Kaoru glared back at him. “That's Auntie! I don't want to hear that from the Megane boxer!”

“Sorry! In the end I spoke out of line!”

Mami leapt up, propelling her body up and with both hands stretched out. The purpose of such a move was made clear when her motion carried her to tackle her possessed mother around the neck and send the both of them crashing down. “ _I don't care who's breaking stereotypes here, help me hold her down!!!_ ”

Kaoru and Koyo grabbed each of Mami's outstretched arms and pinned them down. A _crack_ underneath them ominously echoed. Everyone stopped struggling.

“You know,” Koyo started. “In the end I still don't understand Mami's power.”

“Me neither,” Kaoru admitted.

Mami gritted her teeth. “-eight manipulation.”

“Sorry, what?”

“It's weight manipulation.” Mami's glare silenced any giggles that might be forthcoming. A high-pitched trill caused her to shout: “Shut up!” in Shitt P.'s direction.

The assassin possessing Kozato Mamie stilled. There was, perhaps, an air of horrified realisation about that pause. “The Earth Flame manipulates the local gravity around the user. Which includes... the user's personal gravity.”

Mami flipped herself, straddling her mother's back and reaching down. “Nii-sama, have you figured out something? Two hundred kilos is hard to maintain on Mama's body. Usually I just dial it up to three thousand.”

Enma slowly crawled out towards his mother and siblings. “Keep sitting. I think we can-”

The sigil of the spade glowed as Mamie's eyes widened. The long tapered fingers made a claw-like motion, and Enma drew back in shock as the spade seemed to grow larger before his eyes.

Two screams resounded as Enma thrust the burnt Dzi bead in front of her, male and female alike. His mother reared back, unseating Mami, and pushing aside the two larger athletic boys as she scrabbled for purchase on the carpet, pulling up the heavy carpet in a bid to hide away from the burning bead. In a bid to get away, the possessed woman backed away right as Enma nodded to behind her.

“Sorry, Mama...!” Enma mouthed.

A patch of ice in a swampy mess, partly melted in the carpet caused her to slip back. Rauji's trunk-like arms descended into a bear-hug, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yes!” Julie's excited shout of victory was echoed by Adelheid and Shitt P. as the girls exchanged high-fives. Adelheid quickly withdrew her hands, but her grin was mirrored by the two other boys next to Mami.

“I'm sorry, Mama,” Enma murmured as he held the flaming bead up to her face and the panicked glowing eyes of the possessed woman.

“You'll kill us at this rate,” the assassin in the woman spat. “Can you bring yourself to do it, boy?”

Enma hesitated. The bead's Flames of sienna and umber lashed out, to draw another cry of pain from the possessed body.

“I can abandon this body,” came the next taunt. “Your Dying Will Flame will end up burning her. Your _own_ mother.”

“What are you doing, Nii-sama?!” Mami yelled out, trying to scramble to her feet. “Hurry up!”

“I- I- can't...!” Enma floundered, and then he shouted as the bead fell from his hand as the Kozato matriarch wrenched her right arm free. The bead fell into her open palm, barely more than a second before it touched her full lips. The spade winked out of her left eye and left the deep ochre of his mother's eyes.

_It's alright,_ mouthed his mother as she swallowed the multi-eyed amulet.

Indigo smoke erupted from her mouth, and the sigils in her eyes flared before they died out entirely. Her entire visage seemed to lift and ripple with the indigo smoke, before the spectre arose, a collection of eyes stuck into one grotesque body formed of shadows as it fled the bead within the body of his mother.

The main eye set in the figure's face turned, and its head with it, until its eye was fixated on Mami.

“No!” Enma's hand clamped down with a vice-like grip on his mother's forearm. His mother reached out, and her fingers found purchase in the seemingly insubstantial figure. While the figure reared back and cried out in shock, her right hand reached up to his face, as her left hand drew him down, most of the Shimon stunned into petrification as their mother figure started judiciously stabbing all bodily eyeballs within reach with her fingernails.

“You're way cool, Mama Kozato!” Except for Julie.

“ _You stay away from us._ ” Evidently, she didn't hear him.

“M- M- Mama...” Mami gaped at the surprisingly vicious civilian woman. The matriarch of the Kozato family was not supposed to pluck eyeballs with her fingers.

“You disgusting _bitch_!” the monster snarled and spat. “Let go!”

“No.” Another eyeball gave, spilling its putrid humour which burst into indigo Flame.

One blackened arm slapped at her with a concussive force. Enma yelled, diving to shield his mother and getting shoved into her for his trouble. Mami jumped and tried to hit him, only to dive through the apparition and hit the ground. Adelheid's fans, Julie's fists, Rauji's arms, Koyo's punches and Kaoru's kicks, even Shitt P trying to claw at him, had no effect save for getting them slapped together and concussed for their trouble. The spectre thrashed about, with two red-headed people clinging onto him – a boy trying to shield an older woman. The woman was crushing every eyeball she could reach with her bare fingers, despite the concussive blows.

Five eyeballs met their doom, before Enma and his mother were sent crashing through the wall and out towards the street. Behind them trailed the spectre, which doubled back.

A scream started, and was abruptly cut off. Mami leapt out of the wrecked house, higher than should be humanly possible. She leapt out towards the horizon, right as another pair of shoes hit the roof of the Kozato house.

“Enma?” Ietsuna uncertainly looked at the wreckage of the house before he leapt down to the ground, one hand holding down the hat on his head. “Enma! Are you alright?”

“M- Mama...” Enma choked. “P- Papa... ghost... bead... Mami...”

“I'll call the Disciplinary Committee,” Ietsuna pulled out his phone.

“M- Mami...” Enma struggled. “T- The ghost... it took Mami...”

“Suzuki! Get up!” Ietsuna yelled behind his kneeling down to check Enma. “Do you have contacts in Shimon Town's hospital?”

“N- Not enough,” Adelheid coughed, struggling up. A cut above her eye was already swelling, and she was gingerly handling herself. “He got my collar, I think. The rest...?”

“I- I'll call the ambulance,” Enma coughed. “Please... Mami.”

“You guys might be in danger-” Ietsuna was cut off as he was hauled off of his feet by an ashen-faced Enma.

“Please!” Enma's voice escalated in volume, as his fists had Ietsuna's shirt wedged in them and his eyes near to tears. “She's being possessed. I'm begging you. Save Mami!”

Ietsuna blinked, looking at Enma with an unreadable expression that softened inexplicably. “Whatever I can do.”

* * *

The sun descended, leaving a gloom of dusk that trailed into the night's cloak of stars. Night's bespangled cape faded into a deep indigo as the morning star arose again, heralding the dawn at which the skies pinked into a light violet-and-orange contrast. Giotto spent a while floating in complete silence beside Tsuna like this, considering the rising and setting sun.

“E- Erm, my name is S- Sawada Tsunayoshi...” Tsuna hesitantly began. “I mean, Tsunayoshi Sawada. Sorry. Tsuna is fine.”

“Ah, _i_ _giapponesi._ 1” Giotto smiled, with a delighted gesticulation as he turned to Tsuna. He stood on air as if it were as solid as the ground. “My friend is Japanese too. My wife is Japanese as well, and when I got adopted into her family I had a Japanese name; Ieyasu, for the Tokugawa shogun.”

“Ah, I see,” Tsuna nodded, finding himself standing on air, and watching waves in the orange-streaked sea below his feet. “Giotto-san is a _mukoyoshi_ 2… Your Japanese is very good.”

“ _Grazzi,_ ” Giotto nodded. “Sawada... my wife was named Sawada as well.”

“I...” Tsuna shyly looked away. “I see. W- Where are we?”

“I don't know,” Giotto admitted immediately. “It could be the imaginings of someone's heart, for all I know.”

“I see...” Tsuna slowly nodded, squinting through the sunrise giving way to morning light. “It's beautiful.”

“ _Rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera, rosso di mattina mal tempo si avvicina, 3_” Giotto reflected as the sun rose further in a show of pink and orange. “'Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailors' delight.' It is beautiful, but it heralds danger.”

“...oh,” Tsuna contemplated the red sky again. “It's a shame that this is a dream, Giotto-san. Ie would have loved to paint this sunrise.”

“Hmm?” Giotto made a sound of interest. “Who is that... Tsuna?”

“My twin brother is an artist,” Tsuna explained. “Ie- I mean, Ietsuna, my brother, he loves to paint and draw, and his work is sold by Kozato-san. He's a good artist. He's always practising and studying people and things to draw. He has talent and wits, between the both of us.”

“I know what you mean,” Giotto reflected as high noon passed overhead. “My friends have talents far beyond what I can accomplish. I often think that I am holding them back; that somehow, I dragged them with me to form our group.”

“Group?” Tsuna enquired.

“Ah,” Giotto paused in contemplation, or recollection, a child trying to recall a fond memory. “We didn't really call ourselves anything, but... our group's name has a long story.”

“Really?” Having heard the anecdote of how the Disciplinary Committee came by its current name from Kusakabe, Tsuna doubted that anything could have topped that story, but paid attention to Giotto.

“My friend's name is Ugetsu Asari, or Asari Ugetsu as he says,” Giotto nodded along to his own retelling, as the sun set. “The Kanji used to write it is 'rain moon of the clam'. In his story about how his clan gained that name...”

* * *

“ _...there was a prince and his eighty brothers travelling to another country to win the hand of a princess. The eighty brothers were cruel, and made the prince carry all their luggage, leaving him to struggle to catch up to them.”_

“ _How horrible!” Giotto's lips parted at the recounting of the story from the Orient._

“ _Along the way, the brothers encounter a hare, flayed and raw-skinned, lying in agony upon a sea shore.” recounted Giotto's second and newest friend from Giapan. “The hare came from the island across the sea, by tricking a lot of crocodiles to form a causeway and hopping across. The last crocodile in line grabbed him, and tore off the fur that clothed him, leaving him in that horrible state.” 4_

“ _Huh,” commented Giotto's first friend. “Sounds like something quite a few wise guys would do.”_

“ _The brothers who listened were cruel-hearted, and as a prank, instructed the hare to wash himself in the briny sea, and blow himself dry in the wind,” recounted the friend, who was keeping eye contact with Giotto. “They left the hare in much more stinging pain than was before.”_

“ _Along came the prince, lagging far behind. The gentle-hearted prince told the hare to go to the mouth of the river, and wash himself in the fresh water, then gather the flowering spikes of cat-tail plants, scatter the catkins on the ground, and tumble around until he is covered by fleece. The cured hare made a prediction, that he would be the one to win the princess. Just as the hare predicted, the princess pronounced before the eighty gods that she had chosen the prince.”_

_Giotto was drawn to the retelling, to the tale of talking rabbits and cruel princes. “That's a good thing, right...?”_

“ _His brothers, were all furious, and conspired to kill him.” came the twist. “They made him chase down a red boar, which was really a boulder heated red-hot. The prince died of burns.”_

“ _T hat's so sad, Asari! The poor prince!”_

“ _His mother petitioned one of the creator deities, and she dispatched two magical clams to restore him. He was cured by the clams' juices, restored whole and well._

“ _It was, however, not the end of his brothers ' attempts at slaying him.”_

* * *

Giotto turned his head towards the heavens in contemplation. _“_ That story was an inspiration to me, when my town burned due to brigands retaliating against our budding, nameless group.”

Tsuna gasped. “I- I'm sorry, Giotto-san.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Tsuna.” Giotto considered the skies again with sad eyes, as the sunlight was now pulling back to reveal the veil of stars. “My friends and I could defend ourselves, but it taught me that all endeavours are fraught with dangers. Sometimes... it is the people around us who pay the price.”

Tsuna nodded. “I... was bullied before. My brother... violently retaliated, but... it didn't work.”

Giotto reflected for a bit, before his head – with Flame still alight – dipped in a sharp bob. “I might possess Dying Will Flames, but I wanted to be like the clams that would fix a world so terribly burned. We didn't have a name, but the story of Ugetsu's clan forming our motivation and actions led the _Napulitani_ 5to christen us as a clam. As a group dedicated to protecting people, our group became known as Vongola. Soon everyone started calling me Vongola Primo.”

Tsuna's eyes widened. “Y- You're... Vongola Primo?! Y- You're a... ghost?!”

“Yes... and you are my descendant,” Giotto agreed, absently blinking as the clouded sunrise reflected sunlight upon them. “There's a definite resemblance-”

Giotto fell down while still floating, cradling his face. Tsuna cradled his own hand, knuckles smarting from where he had just punched the Vongola Family's founder. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed. The storm descended, as sudden as Giotto's observation of the reddened skies had promised it to be.

Tsuna sniffed, cautiously watching Giotto get back up. “My twin... he's smart. He's strong. He has what it takes to succeed in life. I love him. He loves me. He's not a bad person. Because of the Vongola and its stupid rules... Our tutor, Reborn, was told to kill him, and failed only because Ie ran to tell me immediately. Ie has been told continually that he can't inherit, just because he didn't have the right F- Flames, and... and no one told me anything. Neither of us wanted to become a Mafia Boss to start with, but I... I would think that you could be straightforward.”

“I did not know. I do not make the rules of the Family any longer.” Giotto lowly spoke, climbing to his feet and hissing in pain as rain began pelting down.

“Did you think it was funny to lead me on?!” Tsuna demanded. The winds spun lazily about them, trapping them in a bubble of calm cradled in the midst of an imaginary tempest.

“I...” Giotto hesitated. “I did not know how to approach you. I am dead, as you say, and I did not know how to explain, powerless as I am to change your fates.”

“But you are the first Boss!” Tsuna shouted back. “It's your bloody family!”

Giotto's face set, jaw steeled despite the slight bruise. “I dwell within the Sky Ring. I am unseen, except to the Bosses, and even that is debatable. I am but a remnant of a dead man hidden inside the Vongola Sky Ring. I slumbered as time marched on, only rousing to pass judgement when the ring passed hands. Hope, I have learnt in Lipari, is the worst poison that anyone could sustain, especially the hope that I would awaken and keep them alive.”6

A rueful hiss followed. “Simora and Alaude came too late to save his brother, but arrived in time to stop the ring from being melted down.”

“Why _now_?” Tsuna asked, having absorbed the regret and helplessness that radiated off a Giotto who was being held accountable quite unreasonably. “If you're so powerless, why did you appear now?”

“I was asleep.” Giotto replied with an absent wave, a gesture of indication. “Then I was awake. And then I was keenly aware that I should not be detecting Yoshimune and Yoshinobu, not when my last memories involved Yoshimune talking about Alaude.”

“Who are those?” Tsuna wanted to slap himself after uttering that question, since he saw those names once a year cleaning graves. “Wait... Ieyasu-jiisan? _You're_ Ieyasu-jiisan...? I can't believe it. Ieyasu-jiisan died so young. Was it... a fight?”

“Cholera.” The monosyllabic reply echoed Giotto's lack of intention to explain further, in sharp contrast to his earlier loquaciousness. “I actually lived long enough to see my grandson's birth.”7

“An illness...” Tsuna contemplated the frank admission of mortality. “You left Italy to come to Japan, right? Reborn – the tutor Kaa-san hired for us by accident – said so.”

“Ah, I left Sicily to see Ugetsu's country, yes,” Giotto closed his eyes in remembrance. “There was another reason to it, as well, relating to my... displacement.”

Tsuna frowned. “The Second Vongola Boss overthrew you.”

“Ricardo- is that what they say?” Giotto sniggered, to Tsuna's shock. “Ricardo _did_ have the ability, but it was... I could have stayed. I could have chosen not to leave Europe.”

Here, Giotto's smile faded, any amusement lost to old memories and sorrow. “...an old friend betrayed us. He wanted us to use the power of the Vongola Rings granted to us for greater things, to secure greater power. Ricardo did not know any better, and did not learn anything else, if Abyssinia was any indication.8 I don't... I didn't quite understand my friend then.”

_I don't understand what is he saying._ _What kind of friend is he talking about?_ “To secure greater power?” Tsuna echoed.

“The Vongola Rings contain a great power, as one third of a series of rings called the Tri-Ni-Sette,” Giotto elaborated. “To contain that power and prevent its misuse, I sealed the Vongola Rings away. The Rings were connected to me, and by extension my bloodline, as a result. It became the responsibility of the Vongola to guard them. The Sky Ring could only be inherited by one of the bloodline, so after my displacement, the Ring fell to Ricardo. I don't know if the decision was warranted.

“He got stuck in Corleone while I travelled!” Giotto smirked a bit, but his face fell. “But, the fact that it came to you means... that something really bad happened. That the Ring had to leave Sicily.”

Tsuna studied him, but somehow relaxing in stance and becoming less guarded. “Timoteo-jiisan- I mean, the Ninth, is still alive. But his three biological sons are dead, and the fourth is adopted. It’s... well... complicated.”

“Family always is.” Giotto whispered, albeit in a softer, more reflective voice. The morning star glistened next to the setting sun, though the storm raged about them. The red sunset swept into starry nights, passing into twilight and dawn just as quickly, where the morning star winked again overhead.

“I am sorry.”

“E- Eh?” Tsuna blinked, fear giving way to surprise on his face. “W- What?”

“I am sorry for deceiving you,” Giotto was utterly serious in both words and expression, meeting Tsuna's eyes. “You are correct. I should be candid with you. I have not done anything to earn your trust. I cannot force you to do anything. Even in the real world, even if someone were to force you to change, I am sure that the brother who loves you would protect you with all of his power anyway. In that way, you never need to change or realise anything outside of your immediate surroundings.”

Giotto's amber eyes burned brighter, hot and searing as he leaned forward, incandescent as the rising sun behind him as the storm began to die down. “He tells you everything, this brother of yours. He is so very honest and straightforward with you that you never think that he is lying; that is his gift, to be so honest that even his lies are truth to you. Even when he lies, you would prefer to be smothered with the veil of truth, hiding under the cover of the night. And he will help you smother yourself in it, and let you stew in the hate that you inspire in yourself. His love will kill you. There is no point in hating anything now. So please, Tsuna. _W_ _ake up_.”

Tsuna blinked his eyes open, to a darkened room surrounded by paper doors. His skin was clammy and cold, and the heavy odour of spices lingered around the house.

“It was a dream...?” Tsuna slapped his own cheeks with both hands. “But- it felt so real.”

_There is no point in hating anything now..._

“... must be my imagination,” Tsuna commented to himself, looking around the empty room. “I'm glad that Hibari-san isn't here.”

The goosebumps that lingered in the wake of his fitful sleep  had barely begun to recede when the door slammed open with a tonfa being tossed at him.

“Herbivore.” Hibari sounded... well, not angry, Tsuna realised, but there was a certain thing about the Chairman that implied that something was disrupting his routine. Especially since Hibari had reverted to more hostile speech patterns.

“Oh.” Tsuna sat up straighter, preparing to duck away in case. “G- Good morning, Hibari-san! I... erm, thanks for putting me up for the night.”

Hibari said nothing, until...

“My uncle made breakfast.”

“R- Right!” _Hibari-san's uncle...? So, Alouette-san's son?! I'm meeting the entire family?!_ _I wonder what he's like..._

“Good morning.”

Tsuna nearly fell over in shock. “H- Hibari-san?!”

But the prefect was gone.

“Hibari-san's uncle must be...” Tsuna spent a while getting distracted by the thought of a composite formed with Alouette and the Chairman. “...mysterious. Just like Giotto-san... no, Ieyasu-jiisan. Wait, my ancestor visited me in a dream... but he's dead...”

His face paled at the realisation. “Am I being haunted?!”

The door slid open, and Tsuna ducked to avoid the wrapped toothbrush impacting on his head. “I'll haunt _you_ if you don't get up.”

“W- When did Hibari-san come back?!” Tsuna exclaimed at the same time that his phone began ringing.

[](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:JMWTurner_Sunrise_with_Sea_Monsters.jpg#/media/File:JMWTurner_Sunrise_with_Sea_Monsters.jpg)  
"[Sunrise with Sea Monsters](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:JMWTurner_Sunrise_with_Sea_Monsters.jpg#/media/File:JMWTurner_Sunrise_with_Sea_Monsters.jpg)" by [J. M. W. Turner](//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._M._W._Turner) \- Found. Licensed under Public Domain via [Wikimedia Commons](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/).

* * *

“Are you sure you're alright, Fēng? That bruise looks awful. It pains me to see you like this.”

“It's alright, Ma. I just accidentally burnt my hand cooking. More rice.”

“You don't have to, you know. I mean, you never called or wrote back or sent a grandchild back, but you're back! And in one piece... slightly used... and you're so pale. Where have you _been_?”

Very slowly, Chrome sidestepped the kitchen entrance and flat-out dashed for the gates, running until she was a respectable distance from the house and without a potentially homicidal Arcobaleno after them.

Chrome, and by extension Mukuro, returned to the apartment above Ciel Art Supplies. They were currently tearing through Alouette's display pieces.

“It must be a form of black magic,” Mukuro commented as Chrome steadily checked the living room, as his illusion drifted through the adjoining entrance towards the small kitchenette and past the small table where the Kokuyo gang had their meals. He peered under the stove. “A sin so bad that the Vindice would arrest even a retired hitwoman.”

“But why are we finding it, Mukuro-sama?” Chrome questioned, having left the living room and checked out more cabinets in the main corridor of the relatively small apartment. “What's so important about it?”

“If you need a talisman to keep away disembodied spirits, you'll need to keep it close,” Mukuro reasoned. “The way I see it, the events must have gone something like this: the old bird met Daemon Spade in the midst of a bloody civil war and ongoing chaos. Somewhere in that chaos, they fought, not once, but twice, and on the second time the old bird won, using undisclosed methods that are more than slightly suspicious. She gets out with her family minus a few members, and she... was part of the Vongola. Does it not strike you, my dear Chrome, as slightly unusual that our otherwise reasonable old bird would keep information of such a sensitive nature to herself?”

“You don't have to put it like that,” Chrome admonished uneasily. “But you are right, Mukuro-sama. Even for Alouette-san... why would she not want to report him?”

“Because she cannot.” Mukuro, in his disembodied illusion form, leant against the wall of the spare bedroom Chrome was poking through. “The Vindice is not understanding or inclined towards mitigating circumstances, and our old bird knows that as much as we do.”

“And she has children,” Chrome nodded, leaving the room once nothing of a vaguely questionable nature made itself present – save for hoards of chocolate snacks that were labelled as Ken's, with a handwritten note in Alouette's spidery print that _Ken, you really need to put the chocolate in an airtight container please?_

The question of Ken's debatable chocolate-storage procedures and addiction aside, still nothing of vaguely black magic.

“Which only leaves the question of what kind of crime is so heinous that she would avoid mentioning it to me.”

Chrome stopped a mere centimetre from the locked door of the master bedroom to give him a look.

“...what?” Mukuro asked.

“I just thought...” Chrome's lips twitched. “...Mukuro-sama cares for Alouette-san.”

“Open the door, Chrome.”

The door fell open.

Chrome slowly walked in, hyper-aware of booby traps and breaking into the personal space of a rather terrifying old woman. Getting caught by either was a distinctly unpleasant thought. The room smelt musty and old, though Alouette's room was laid out in a fairly straightforward fashion of a bed, a chair and dresser, and shelves containing weapons and books, up to some that Chrome was sure broke the Swords and Firearms Law.

“Are you sure it's not in a bank deposit box, Mukuro-sama?” Chrome began to kneel down to check under the bed.

“Keeping valuables close is _de rigueur_ for people who spend their lives on the run, as our old bird likely has done,” Mukuro observed, studying the chest of drawers and hissing as the illusion of his extended right hand caught on violet and indigo flames. “Found it.”

Chrome got up, dusting her hands to pull open the indicated drawer. Slowly, the two illusionists pored over its contents.

“A birth certificate?” Chrome pulled it out.

“28 October 1936, Oradour-sur-Glane, Haute-Vienne,” Mukuro clicked his tongue. “Not exactly relevant... fake identities, passbook- _hello_.”

Chrome swallowed, using a handkerchief to pull out the drawstring bag. “Mukuro-sama...?”

“ _Kuman Thong_ ,” Mukuro confirmed woodenly. “ _Kuman_ , or _Kumara_ means "young boy"; _thong_ means golden. The authentic _Kuman Thong_ originated in a practice of necromancy. They were obtained from the desiccated foetuses of children who had died whilst still in their mothers' womb. The Thai shamans were said to have the power to invoke these stillborn babies, adopt them as their children, and use them to help them in their endeavours. The Vindice... really don't like using human remains.”

Chrome shied away from the pouch, dropping it back into the drawer. “W- Why would she keep it?”

At this, Mukuro actually looked uneasy. “I do not know. This is evidence that she should have discarded, but cannot.”

He considered further. “This is our leverage.”

“W- What?”

“The value of Alouette Lei at present lies in her being the weakness of one Arcobaleno and the Qingniao of Hong Kong, on top of being a fount of Vongola's secrets,” explained Mukuro. “We can negotiate for release if we give this to the Vindice as evidence against her.”

Chrome  slammed the drawer shut  with an unprecedented force .  “ We can't.”

Chrome shook her head at Mukuro,  her breathing harsh  in the sudden silence . “ Alouette-san... Her son came back  today .  She's been waiting for him and he just came back.  She's old, and she's battling cancer.  Mukuro-sama... don't do this. ”

“...keeping this is not a viable option either.” Mukuro shook his head. “It would have been useful against Spade, especially since we know that it worked once. But we cannot be caught with this now.”

C hrome's eyes glimmered with a spark of hope. “You mean...”

“If we survive this... we are permanently tying our fates to the old bird. It needs to be destroyed.”

The spark died. “It's... Mukuro-sama, I believe it best that Ken and Chikusa never hear about this conversation if we have to bring it up.”

Mukuro beckoned for her to open the drawer. The two illusionists then stared at its incongruous contents, especially watching the banked indigo Flame contained within, ready to lash out at them at any moment. Chrome sniffed, and recoiled as the oily smell of must hit her nose.

“It's probably soaked in _Nam Man Phrai_ , which is consecrated oil taken from a dead body,” volunteered Mukuro. “We could facilitate the old bird by setting it on fire.”

“Mukuro-sama, you would be plucked to death.” Chrome admonished, and was about to add some more words when thuds resounded on the roof. “What is that...?”

Chrome peered out of the window to watch Ietsuna leap across roofs and swing down with acrobatic flips.

“The interesting thing here, my dear Chrome, is that girl he's chasing.” Mukuro shrugged, insubstantial and ghostly. “They're headed to the docks, I believe. We should go.”

Slowly, Chrome put the documents and their grisly discovery back. Backing out and closing the door, Chrome stumbled into the kitchen of the shop-house and poured a glass of water and sat at the small table where they ate together.

“Mukuro-sama?”

“Yes, my dear Chrome?”

“Who...” Chrome paused. “How?”

It took a while for Mukuro to reply. “You mean... why would the old bird make such a thing?”

Chrome nodded. “It's... not her. Alouette-san always... fights for herself.”

“The thing you must understand, Chrome, is that culturally different things are not inherently bad. Fetishes of human body parts included.” Mukuro shrugged, unseen except by Chrome and the expression of his illusion considering and deep in thought. “And as for the reason... we can guess that it happened in Cambodia. To be in that sort of situation where no one else can help you is terrifying. There are people who depend on you to live. There is- _was_ no other way.”

Mukuro pondered some more. “There is no other way,” he repeated.

A buzz sounded. It took a while for the phone to register, and even then Chrome spent a while wondering who was calling about Ciel Art Supplies before she walked out, gingerly picking up the phone. “H- Hello?”

“ _Chrome? I'm glad you're_ _at home._ _Say, does the presence of large bodies of water affect possessions?”_

“E- Eh?” Chrome paused to listen to Mukuro's explanation. “E- Erm, Mukuro-sama says... yes. Possessions are hard to maintain because water is symbolically purifying.”

“ _So,_ _what's the explanation for_ _someone who's possessed taking a boat to an island?”_

“The assassin, Daemon Spade.” Mukuro grimly considered. “Chrome, ask him where is he, and where did the assassin go?”

Chrome did as asked, and replied: “The port. According to Ietsuna-san, the assassin went to Shimon Island.”

“Shimon... Chrome, let me take over for a bit.”

Chrome relaxed, indigo wisps shrouding her form until Mukuro stood where she had been, holding the receiver of the house phone.

“Sawada Ietsuna,” purred the blue-haired illusionist. “We find ourselves pursuing a common enemy. Tell me everything, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to help you bring Daemon Spade down.”

* * *

An hour ago, a brown-haired girl in an orange taffeta dress watched from her position on the docks, as another red-headed girl in black leapt from the pier, towards the horizon. One step and one swing of a heavy anchor knocked the second girl out, at which the orange-dressed girl tossed her aboard a boat and pointed towards the engine room.

“Please, _Hiyayakko_ -san. Shimon Island.”

The fishing boat _Hiyayakko_ started up, chugging away cheerfully towards the horizon. Pulling out a travel plan and a rental form to tuck into a shelf on her way, Ōtan proceeded to slide behind the desk. She sat just before a brown-haired boy wearing a Boss of the Plains hat ran into the office she had appropriated by similar means.

“Welcome to Namimori Boat Rentals!”

“Excuse me, did you see a red-haired girl come in?”

“Yes! She filled out a form for a boat on hold for the Kozato family.”

“A boat-?” the boy barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Where did she go?”

“I'll check the plans. Can I help you with anything else?” Ōtan slid out from behind, to slip behind Ietsuna and drop half the shell of a tiny clam into his left pocket en route to pulling out files.

All the way smiling falsely as the clam-shell gleamed orange, the same shade of her dress, and the same shade of the other half which was currently planted on top of the  _Hiyayakko_ 's engine.  The same shell, that was m anipulating the boat and  the possessed  Mami Kozato towards Shimon Island, and the point on which they would be conceived.

* * *

_**The Kuman Thong is real, with a few liberties taken here. On hindsight, it is also sort of a pseudo-Acrobaleno contract.** _

1 _**ITA: the Japanese (people)!**_

2 _**A mukoyōshi (**_ _ **婿養子**_ _ **) (literally "adopted son-in-law") is an adult man who is adopted into a Japanese family as a daughter's husband, and who takes the family's surname.**_

_**3 ITA: (proverb) Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.** _

_**4 The early Mandarin Chinese or possibly Wu Chinese word for Japan was recorded by Marco Polo as Cipangu. The Malay and Indonesian words Jepang, Jipang, and Jepun were borrowed from Chinese dialects, and this Malay word was encountered by Portuguese traders in Malacca in the 16th century. It is thought the Portuguese traders were the first to bring the word 'Zeppen' to Europe. It was first recorded in English in 1577 spelled Giapan.** _

_**5 SCN: Neapolitans.** _

_**Note that this is only an alternate interpretation of how Vongola got its name – aside from the crackfics poking fun at the clam.** _

_**Actually, I had a lot of problems constructing this because I couldn't find the Sicilian translation for 'clam' in general, so I assumed that Giotto's group didn't name themselves (or went by a different name) and the name issue arose from the Neapolitan ' vongola' and the basic story of the Vongola's mindset and vision. The closest word I got was 'cunchigghia', which means 'shell' and refers more to the scallop than the ** _ ** Venerupis decussata ** **_, which is 'vongola verace' in Neapolitan and modern Italian._ **

_**6 Lipari is the largest of the Aeolian Islands in the Tyrrhenian Sea off the northern coast of Sicily, and the name of the island's main town. During the 1930s–1940s, Lipari Island was used for the confinement of political prisoners including: Emilio Lussu, Curzio Malaparte, Carlo Rosselli, Giuseppe Ghetti and Edda Mussolini.** _

_**7 Not to disparage anything, but cholera, dysentery and typhoid remained high in Japan until after WW2, and life expectations in general took a sharp dive around 50 years and above. It's actually pretty decent for Giotto to live to his fifties.** _

_**8 Giotto is talking about the 1895-1896 First Italo-Ethiopian War, which ended in an Ethiopian victory (Ethiopia was historically known as Abyssinia).** _


	31. Folio 30: Velatura

S ilence greeted the dawn overhead.

The salty breeze woke Mami, especially the waving of the boat underneath her.  The most terrifying thing was, she had no idea how she had even gotten on the boat.

Mami sat up, blinking as she shied away from the dawning sun  and scrambled towards the  rails of the ship .  The deck seemed to sway, sending her careening into the rails with a wince.

A laugh escaped her lips.  I t took a moment for Mami to realise that it was her s,  though not hers .

“It appears that our pursuer trapped us on this boat, _carusa_ ,” laughed her voice, though she could not feel her throat. “He is intelligent, I will acknowledge that.”

** T he assassin!  The one who tried to kill Nii-sama and Papa and Mama! **

Mami tried, and found herself unable to speak.

Her eyes flickered over the deck, past the deck furniture and  towards the railings, towards which her legs stumbled  without her input.  The barrier was unchained, and Mami trailed along with her puppeted body down to a sandy beach. No, not a sandy beach...  the boat had partly washed ashore, lingering in the dark band of the intertidal zone  that swept in every high tide  and swept out every low tide .

“You've been quiet, _carusa_ ,” her voice spoke aloud. Indigo flames sparked the length of her fingers, erupting into the air and dissipating into a curtain of sandy light in the distance. “Judging by the Desert Flame curtain, I am in an area dominated by the Simon Famiglia.”

** H ow did he know?! **

“I have fought your Famiglia before.”

M ami kept silent.

“I suppose that an introduction is in order,” her lips moved. “My name is Daemon Spade.”

B ehind her, a wave crashed onto the rocky, hard beach covered in sand and holes.  Before her, the volcano at the centre of this particular island rumbled sleepily.

“You are ignorant about your Famiglia's history, _carusa_.” Mami bristled at the one scolding her and holding her body. “ I am doing this for the Vongola Famiglia.”

Trapped within her own mind, the name still brought her chills.  It had been after the  attack on them. She had barely escaped death when a hero had crashed  into their house, the boy who had invaded Papa's gallery  with his portfolio.  Papa had been unable to refuse him afterwards, and had come clean about  the Simon Famiglia  to them; Mama, Nii-sama and Mami  herself had  all  been  stunned at being in a  Mafia fami ly .  Papa was still apologising for it  as child after child were taken from burning houses  and wrecked crime scenes,  with  Koyo as the latest one . Adel,  Rauji, Kaoru-

“Why?” Mami's words burst from her lips; she was in control, albeit struggling to keep control.

**Giotto was a great leader, indeed the greatest I have known. However, he lacked ambition in our world, where power and greed are the only absolute justice. It falls to me to do what is necessary, to eliminate anything and anyone that will weaken the Vongola – just like Cozarto, and the Simon, these hundred years ago.**

“How are we a threat?” A hundred years ago... the history was fascinating, the only reason she had retained it. Nii-sama was better at history, she mourned.

** T he Vongola has no time to  devote towards families who cannot pick up their own slack. **

M ami drew a breath with her own lungs, fighting the intense headaches and the eruption of misty indigo that  trailed around her.  There were so many things wrong with that argument that  she could pick apart,  including that the Simon might be a nominal Mafia  _famiglia_ but  hadn't been involved in anything vaguely illegal – well, Adel's Liquidation Committee didn't count –  and couldn't hope to compete.  Another generation,  and the Simon Famiglia would have died out, because  Mami would make sure that  they never became one,  and Papa was  already fairly legitimate .

“I don't understand why.”

** Y ou don't have to understand. **

M ami's fists tightened.  There was no reasoning with him.  They were alone on the island, and she did not know  what was his aim, and she didn't care aside from that he had taken over Mama for a long time, he had tried to kill them, and he injured her family.  There was no fighting with a ghost, not within her own body.  She pondered, until her eyes fell onto the coast and its bands of black and white,  and  a tugging feeling increased to lead her into the island.

Flames of ochre licked up, eating into the indigo flame.  There was a distantly registered surprise, and delight.  **The Simon Earth Flame...**

T he curve of Mami's lips  then  pulled down  in shock as Daemon Spade found himself unable to move h er legs as she stumbled forward.  Almost as if hypnotised by a trance or being dragged by some higher power, the little red-haired girl walked into the rainforest at the island's edge, lost amidst a sea of leaves...

* * *

Kusakabe Tetsuya awoke that morning in  numb shock. It was a feeling that he was intimately acquainted with, especially since he had awoken in a chilly winter night. Overcast clouds and the threat of snow days coming in from the mountain ranges close to Shimon Town were not ways to greet the winter, no matter how close to December it was. It had barely been a week since the school imploded, and yet...

He awoke, looked at the cause of it, and picked it up.

“Ietsuna-san?”

“ _Kusakabe-san, I'm calling in a BOLO._ ”

Most of the time, Tetsuya actually liked the Sawada twins. Sawada Ietsuna might be flippant, but Tetsuya got the feeling that the Committee treasurer actually appreciated his work in herding the others. Sawada Tsunayoshi was downright pleasant in herding the Chairman, sparing Tetsuya quite a few beatings and worries about the Chairman eating properly quite a few times. They were nice – though Ietsuna could be a bastard when they first joined, the pair had managed to become Committee officers within months into their 'extra-curricular'. Especially Ietsuna.

“Sawada-san, it's-” Tetsuya lifted his cellphone, “three in the morning.”

“ _I'm chasing after her in Shimon Town- crap!_ ” A crash and a muffled curse resounded. “ _Suzuki's house is burning,_ _none of the Shimon guys are available._ _I'm chasing_ _a possessed_ _Kozato Mami_ _right towards Namimori,_ _get our guys BOLO_ _on her_ _._ ”

“What about the Chairman?”

“ _He's protecting Tsuna._ ” The sentence was punctuated with another _crash_ , much like broken tile. “ _Long story short, someone's after Tsuna and Suzuki. Can't explain more._ ”

Tetsuya had thanked him, and hung up before sending a mass email. It had been a tense few hours staring out from the windows, but calling the entire Committee to survey Namimori was a duty to track down the latest malefactor. If the Chairman was pinned down deflecting the threat aimed at their general affairs manager, Kusakabe was ready to enforce Namimori's peace. Preferably with violence.

It had been around five AM when the sightings had started to pour in, punctuated with comments about their treasurer's physical prowess. Watching Ietsuna run across rooftops and practically fly after the pigtailed silhouette that could only be the infamously strong Kozato daughter, Tetsuya could only agree. There was something predatory to the Sawada twin as he crouched and bodily leapt after the girl-

Tetsuya blinked, and rubbed his eyes. Surely those were spots in his vision. It did not mean that the Disciplinary Committee's treasurer had faded and then reappeared further ahead in a burst of black. Yes, that was ridiculously terrifying.

Ietsuna called him later, with instructions to contact the Chairman. Before Hibari Kyoya had awoken.

The result could qualify as the most terrifying experience of Kusakabe Tetsuya. It was the reason he gave for overlooking the general affairs manager until later, when he called and-

“Tetsu.”

 _The Chairman is with Sawada-san? Ietsuna-san did say that he was protecting Sawada-san or something... so..._ “I- Chairman, is Sawada-san there? I- I forgot to inform him about the situation.”

“Tetsu. He is speaking with my mother's brother. I will inform him at breakfast. You will meet us in one hour at the Namimori Hospital, where Suzuki's guardians have been hospitalised.”

Tetsuya blinked at the dial tone. “His mother's brother... his uncle... Baa-sama has a son?”

* * *

A few hours ago, if there had been any sleepiness, the early morning call had erased it. Now, Tsuna was occupied with his toilet and rushing out as fast as possible. It was almost fortunate that the Hibari house had only one storey, otherwise terrible accidents of the tripping-down-the-stairs variety would have happened. As it were, Tsuna would have tripped outside of the kitchen if not for someone's timely intervention.

“Oh, good morning. Be careful, alright?”

“Uh...” Tsuna blinked, and wanted to pinch himself, because there was a man straight out of some Chinese action drama in the house. “Good morning? Erm...”

“ _Bonjour_ , Tsu-chan!” The excitable Alouette had somehow managed to sneak up and tackle him into a bear-hug. “What do you think of my son?”

“S- Son? Alouette-san?”

“I am Lei Quèfēng, or Fēng. It is pronounced Fon in _Onyomi_.” the man clarified, still relaxed and refreshing as a passing breeze. “I thank you for taking care of my mother.”

“Y- er, nice to meet you, Fon-san.” Tsuna swallowed with a short bow. “I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi. It's nothing at all, really, Alouette-san is my brother's Savate teacher and employ- I mean, art supply person. We respect her a lot.”

“Fēng made breakfast!” Alouette smiled, an honestly open smile that Tsuna echoed despite his earlier worries. “It's _tom yum_ soup! It'll be delicious, Tsu-chan!”

“Er, Enma's parents are in the hospital,” Tsuna quickly informed the old woman. “Suzuki-san's house burnt down, and I- I need to visit them. Somehow it involves, erm, Ie activating the Committee to go on the lookout last night.”

“My art agent, Kozato Makoto?” Alouette frowned. “ _Alors_. Then you must pack some soup along. If I recall, he has eight children, no?”

“Yes, Alouette-san?” Tsuna blinked as he was forced into the kitchen and made to sit down at the table, which smelt strongly of spices and limes this morning. “Erm, yes, there's eight children. I'll be sure to take it to them. You're very kind, Alouette-san.”

“My son is good at cooking,” Alouette teased. She leant closer to Tsuna with a smirk on her face. “He's shy. That's why he's not married yet.”

“Ma!” The large silver Thermos was more or less slammed onto the kitchen island, in contrast with the bowl that Fon set before Tsuna. “I'll find some disposable cups as well.”

“I- I'm sure Fon-san will find someone he loves, Alouette-san...” Tsuna swallowed as he accepted the cup. Comparing Fon to the rest of the family, Tsuna was falling up short as to how such a _nice_ man could have Hibari for a nephew. “D- Does Fon-san travel a lot?”

“Dunno,” Alouette shrugged. “We were supposed to do a job together in the nineties as bonding time, but the cancer came and I had to cancel. I would have sent Yǔ to replace me, but these two don't get along even though they're twins. I'm almost jealous of your mother, I can't even remember the number of repairs we had to make when they started quarrelling.”

“What kind of job was this, Alouette-san...?” The question died as Tsuna beheld the mysteriously cutting smile of Alouette Lei and rapidly changed the subject. “Fon-san must be busy to visit Alouette-san.”

“Too busy to write a letter or place a call, or even visit for the Chinese New Year... Or even know about his nephew...” The sudden mood swing nearly frightened Tsuna as Alouette sighed. “I really thought I'd wait until the end of this life. Fon... I'm hungry.”

“You still have the biopsy, Ma,” Fon worriedly considered the large cooking pot as he packed the Thermos and a few cups. “Afterwards, alright?”

“I'm sure the doctors can reschedule for my sake.” Alouette's grin resembled a grimace. “How long are you staying, Fēng? I'll make gumbo.”

“Ma. There's no need to go to so much trouble-”

“Or would you prefer curry, Fēng?” Alouette's smile was sweet as lead acetate, which was sweet but poisoned the body over a long period of time. “Oh, and you're not allowed to refuse.”

“A pot-au-feu is alright, Ma.” Fon shook his head. “I... will stay by your side this time.”

“ _Pot-au-feu, pain perdu... et_ _tarte Tatin_ _..._ ”

“Ma, that's too many dishes!”

Meeting the mysterious son of Alouette – and by extension Hibari's uncle; wasn't that a strange thought – could have been less jarring. Except that said uncle was rather devoted to his mother, which Tsuna found rather sweet, except that this was the Hibari clan, so... There was, Tsuna reflected, probably some hidden dark side to the man that he did not know about.

“Fine... I'm dreaming...” Alouette stared up at Fon vacantly from the table. “I swear you became a bag of bones. Your face is thinner, your hair is longer, and you have a monkey on your head...”

Monkey and old lady had a stare contest as she considered it. Her pink tongue licked across her lips in a deliberate motion.

“Can we eat it?”

“Ma, this is Lichi. Please don't eat him.”

“Ah, he has a name.” Alouette smirked at the monkey. “Lichi looks like a Japanese macaque.”

“He's assuredly Tibetan, although he is a macaque. He knows how to choose Dzi beads.”

“Everyone knows how to choose them. Except you.”

“It was _one time_ , Ma!”

The soup was delicious – and burnt Tsuna's tongue, nose hairs and possibly his eyelashes from its hot and sour taste. “It's delicious...” Tsuna gasped, willing himself to display manners at least. Especially since Hibari had walked in, glared at his uncle, and then sat down with an imperious gesture.

“Good morning, Kyoya,” Fon smiled down at the prefect.

“...good morning.”

The cup slipped from Tsuna's hands onto the table. It would have spilled, if not for Hibari catching it.

“Don't be so shocked.” U commented as she strode into the kitchen and sat opposite of the boys. “Kyoya does have manners.”

“H- Hibari-san said good morning...” Tsuna mumbled. “Fon-san is awesome!”

The son of Alouette Lei made a serene smile. “Finish your soup, Tsunayoshi-kun. You have something you need to do, yes?”

“Ah, yes!” Tsuna carefully finished the soup as the small hamper was completed. “Erm, I'm grateful for all of you... but, doesn't Hibari-san need breakfast?”

“Kyoya inherited a dislike of spicy foods from me,” U explained. “I told Fēng that the last time I met him. Ma didn't know.”

“Fēng... you talk to Yǔ but not to me...?” The growl that echoed was rough and decidedly terrifying, especially as Alouette threw a nasty look to her son. “ _How could you?_ ”

“Erm, er, it was an emergency!” Tsuna's next most bizarre experience in life was watching someone who resembled Hibari so much practically flail in trying to reassure the Lei matriarch. “I needed childcare advice for I-Pin-”

Fon's expression morphed into one of dread as Alouette's grey eyes fixated upon him with a predatory gaze. “Childcare advice? Who is I- _Pin_?”

“I-Pin?” Tsuna repeated, recalling the little girl assassin under his roof. “You're I-Pin's teacher, Fon-san?”

“There's a perfectly good reason-” Fon was seized by the collar and locked into a headlock, cutting off his words.

“Is she a grandchild?”

“ _No_! I-Pin is my student, Mama!”

“I won't relax until you tell me where is my new grandchild, Fēng!”

Tsuna grabbed the hamper, edging towards the exit. “H- Hibari-san, should we... stop them?”

“I'll bite you all to death...” growled the youngest skylark.

“Why would you stop such an interesting fight, Kyoya?” U beamed, especially at the glare Fon threw at her.

“I've been waiting for a granddaughter, Fēng!” The oldest skylark was ignoring the youngest skylark in favour of throttling her son, or it looked like it.

“Ma, I-Pin is not my daughter! She's not with me!”

“I don't believe you're bad enough of a teacher to leave your student alone without supervision from yourself! You're here! That means your students are around here!”

A tonfa flashed, and Tsuna had the sudden flash of terror that Hibari was about to hit his own grandmother, for despite having seen her pound him flat, Alouette was still an old lady and Tsuna had principles.

Somehow, though, Fon had parried the tonfa with a wooden spoon in breaking out of his mother's headlock. “Is that any way to treat your grandmother, Kyoya?”

The temporary relief Tsuna felt drained away as U continued: “No combat weapons in the kitchen.”

Both silver tonfas and one walking stick were set onto the table, and then sleeves were being rolled back. Tsuna blanched as part of the marble-topped kitchen counter caved in as the fight started.

“I- I'll just be on my way to the hospital, Hibari-san...”

“ _The knife block is off-limits, we cook with that!”_ That was U, he thought.

“Have a nice trip, Tsu-chan~!” Alouette's cheery farewell contrasted with the ubiquitous violence that seemed to be part of her life. “Ask the nice men outside for a ride, okay~? We'll meet you later!”

Tsuna's unspoken question about the nice men was solved as he beheld the black car and the besuited men in black trailing around it, giving the Hibari house the look associated with haunted mansions and possibly total scenes of carnage. The door swung open.

“Tsunayoshi-kun,” beamed the Ninth, alone in the two-benched cabin. “Come in.”

“Why are you all standing outside, Timoteo-jiisan?” Tsuna nodded, and got in. The door closed, and they smoothly peeled away. “I need to go to Namimori Hospital.”

“Coincidentally, we share the same destination.” Timoteo waved, a touch of surety present despite that his hands were occupied with something in his lap, that was covered with a heavy velvet cloth. “I was looking for you upon my immediate entrance into town. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were not only at home, Iemitsu told me that you spent the night at the Hibari house.”

“I have a toothbrush there. It was a good idea.” Tsuna looked about. “I couldn't participate in the search, then I found out that this morning Kozato-san's house was on fire.”

“Then you are well-informed, more than this old man,” Timoteo shrugged. “Has your brother told you anything else?”

“No.”

“Last night, the graves of your family began emitting Flames,”Timoteo relayed as he lifted the cloth to reveal an urn with green sparks trailing from it. “Ieyasu, Yoshimune, Yoshinobu, Ietsuna... all of their Flames, burning for eternity trapped in the stone and ashes. The skies were beautiful, so I was told.”

“Dying Will Flames burned in their graves?” Tsuna repeated, incredulous. “Is that possible?”

“I don't know.” The admission was frank. “Your father has given us permission to remove them, as bearers of the Sky Flames, to rest in the crypt in Corleone.”

“Crypt? But... they were laid here,” Tsuna pointed out. “Why do you need to move them?”

“I want to return them to the Family,” Timoteo frowned. “It is ridiculous, but I wish to acknowledge them as ours. Especially Lorenzo. Ietsuna.”

Shifting, he set the urn carefully onto his lap, pulling out an old, careworn photograph from underneath the urn. “Have you ever seen him?”

Tsuna accepted the photograph carefully. Two men were depicted in the photograph by a bar. The left was held by Timoteo-jiisan, young and with one of Reborn's hats on his head except with a dark band, set at an angle to capture a hint of curled black by his ear. The right was dominated by a man in another suit, but his head was bare to show two streaks of his white bangs, swept back to flare much like the horns of a deer.

“Why is his hair white?”

“Souvenir of Nagasaki, '45.” Timoteo leant back. “They call it Marie Antoinette syndrome; sudden whitening of the hair. It gave him a lot of grief until he told us in '62. Then it made him a hero to most of the soldiers. He was so welcomed... so he thought. I welcomed him, and I was sure that most of my family did as well. Coyote had doubts, but that was his job, and Lorenzo was Japanese.”

The urn was lifted up. “The Flames each contain a complete record of its owner's life. In the dying moments of Lorenzo, we confirmed the order of birth.”

“How does that matter?” Tsuna shrugged. “We've lived as equals for so long without this being a problem. Why now?”

“We also established something else.” Timoteo gently replied, holding up the urn. “Put your hand into the Flame, and it will show you Lorenzo's last memory. It will show you that your brother cannot inherit.”

The green and orange sparked in answer as Tsuna dipped his hand inside, and realisation leaked into his eyes.

Timoteo nodded sadly. “I will settle matters with Ietsuna-kun as well, but this is clear. As the elder, you will inherit the Family.”

“Neither of us are older or younger.” Tsuna hollowly replied.

“Fair enough.” Timoteo nodded. “You could follow the Kray twins1. Get into the business together.”

“I couldn't do that. I love my brother. He has a future.”

Timoteo crossed his legs. “He is not supposed to be alive. You never know when he is going to leave. His future is your decision.”

Tsuna gave the old man a look as the black car finally pulled into the hospital driveway. “So I'm not supposed to love him. It does not change the fact that he is my brother, dead or alive, and that we were born together and lived together. So I do love him, and so I can't decide for him.”

He pushed the door open. “He was right, you know.”

“Who?”

“Grandpa.” Tsuna looked him squarely in the eye, hand outstretched. “You are terribly secret when it doesn't suit you, and you never say all the words you mean, so all the fires you caused as a result were your own fault.”

Setting the flaming urn down into a box and tucked into a secret compartment in the cabin, Timoteo nodded with a wry smile, accepting Tsuna's outstretched hand next to climb out of the car. “Lorenzo... he took that name from a saint who died in fire, to symbolise himself when he escaped the fires of Nagasaki. In life I burnt him, and as a result we lost the bloodline of Primo a second time. Now, we of the Vongola must resolve this matter with the Simon Famiglia. So that when I bring back to the Iron Fort the bones of a rediscovered bloodline, in death he will burn.”

* * *

Namimori Hospital's private ward was more or less packed with the Kozato extended family when Tsuna and Timoteo entered. Ietsuna was present, but seemed uninterested in enforcing the rules of attending school upon his peers since he looked dead on his feet. Koyo and Kaoru were bumping each other, Julie was being manoeuvred away from one bed by Shitt P., and Adelheid herself was trying to rouse Enma, who was using Rauji as a pillow. All of them bore some form of injury or bandage or lethargy, a marker of the reasons why the Adelheid Suzuki brand of justice had yet to befall them. However, their injuries paled compared to the constant beeps of the heart monitors that the Kozato guardians were now attached to.

“Timoteo-jiisan?” Ietsuna acknowledged.

“I have come in my capacity as the Ninth Boss of the Vongola.” Timoteo's back straightened as Tsuna let go of his wiry arm.

Enma blinked as he awoke. “Huh?”

“It's the Ninth,” Adelheid whispered to him. “Get up, Enma.”

“There's no need for that.” Timoteo bowed his head. “Our families have been allies for many generations. I understand that your sister has become caught in this fracas, Simon Decimo, and I offer my deepest apologies.”

“Ie, when did you get here?” Tsuna asked as he started to prepare cups of Fon's soup by a movable table. “What happened to Mami? Here, everyone, Alouette-san's son prepared this for all of you. Drink it and get some energy.”

“I chased the possessed Mami to the harbour, and I found out that somehow Mami got on a boat headed for somewhere called Shimon Island.” Ietsuna yawned lightly. “I would've continued, but that seemed foolhardy, so I posted a Disciplinary Committee member to keep watch at the harbour for the boat she took. Looks like he wasn't after you, Tsuna.”

Adelheid frowned. “Could it be...? Enma.”

“You mean-” Enma was becoming more awake. “Something on the island?”

“The Simon Famiglia has an island?” Tsuna pronounced in shock.

“It was created around the same time as the Vongola and Simon Famiglie were formed.” Timoteo revealed. “The Simon Ninth – your uncle, Enma-kun – told me. It was a booby-trapped island base for the Simon Famiglia after they left Europe.”

“Yes.” Enma nodded. “Mami is smart, and she has the strength to steer a boat. I... my parents and my sister has fallen victim to this person within the Vongola Famiglia. Why is Daemon Spade after us? Please explain it. Please help us save Mami!”

“That is hard. Daemon Spade is part of the First Generation Vongola Famiglia. In hearsay, the Simon First Generation was torn apart assisting the Vongola, and thus the Simon fell from Mafia history.”

“R- Reborn!” Tsuna nearly spilt the soup as the baby hitman appeared in the intensive care ward.

“Normally, I wouldn't bother with small-fry Families like the Simon,” Reborn airily pronounced. “But, last night an earthquake broke the graves of the Sawada family and revealed that their Dying Will Flames were still burning.”

“An earthquake... yes,” Enma nodded. “Our... instincts did not go wild until after the earthquake. The skies turned different colours as well.”

“That was the cemetery,” Ietsuna added his piece. “Do you think they are tied?”

“The histories of the Vongola and Simon have been intertwined for a long time.” Reborn reasoned carefully. “We don't know much yet, but it's a worthy lead to check Shimon Island. We need to remove Daemon Spade anyway. So... why are all of you drinking soup?”

Adelheid's expression changed fluidly to shock as she downed a cup. “I don't know.”

“Mami.” Rauji finished his own cup. “Save Mami.”

“Tralala!” Shitt P. bounced the cup in her palm.

“Obviously we're going to rescue Mami,” Julie snapped. “We're hungry.”

“In the end, this is a good wake-up call.” Koyo's face was flushed redder than autumn leaves.

“It's food,” was Kaoru's simple reply.

Enma took another sip, and then crushed the cup in one hand as he stood up. “Tsuna-san, Ietsuna-san... please help me.”

“Of course,” Tsuna smiled. “What do you think, Ie?”

The twins exchanged looks, and nodded together in fluid synchronisation.

“Before that,” interrupted Reborn. “Tsuna, where are your weapons?”

Tsuna hesitated. “At home.”

“Who the hell leaves their weapons at home, Tsuna?” Ietsuna made a face.

Reborn stared at him. “You don't need to interfere, Ietsuna.”

“Why?”

“Because I have thought about a lot of things,” cut in Timoteo. “Lorenzo left two grandsons. The Vongola only needs one heir. As the older one, Tsunayoshi-kun will become the heir. Thus, Ietsuna-kun is not part of the Vongola, and is free to do as he likes as long as it does not challenge our interests.”

“It's fine.” Tsuna whispered. “I made the choice. But, Enma is our friend. We are helping them, with or without you.”

A strange light entered Ietsuna's eyes. It could have been an illusion then, or something even more, but Tsuna swore that they glowed with hate despite the honeyed thanks that dripped from Ietsuna's mouth.

* * *

Ever since Reborn had entered their lives, Tsuna had felt a bit like the Pied Piper leading children away, especially this mid-November morning. Somehow Gokudera had caught him entering the house to retrieve his gloves and pills and begged to come along, Lambo had latched onto Ietsuna and complained until he was carried along, Yamamoto had trailed cheerfully, and Ryohei had joined in en route to the pier, where Chrome was found waiting with a tied-off bag and her weapon.

The only good news, if it could be qualified, was that Hibari was nowhere around or too occupied with his family. It was a fact that Reborn mentioned as he scrutinised Fon's soup, and let Leon lick a bit of it from the emptied Thermos. The chameleon was currently glowing a brilliant scarlet and spitting flames above the boat that Enma had commissioned, the _Chawanmushi_.

Tsuna sat at the stern, legs straight before him. Ietsuna laid his head on his brother's lap, watching the skies. Lambo teetered next to them.

“Are you alright?” Tsuna asked. “You didn't sleep for the whole night.”

“I'll be fine,” Ietsuna replied. “I don't want to sleep, Tsuna.”

“Why not? It'll take another hour for us to get to the island.”

Ietsuna's reply took a while to come. “If I said that I don't know when I'll wake up again... or if I'm scared that I might never wake up again... would you laugh?”

“No.” Tsuna stroked his hair. Next to them lay a hat, and neither of them commented upon it. “It's alright. I'll be with you.”

“Promise?” mumbled the other twin.

“Uh-huh.” Tsuna was silent for a bit. “I- I want to talk to Enma for a bit.”

“Do you need my permission for that?” Ietsuna's voice was teasing and quiet.

“No, it's not about that,” dissuaded Tsuna. “The Varia and Dad are on their way to Shimon Island as well, thanks to Timoteo-jiisan. But I don't think Enma believes that we would help them without this link of our heritage. I believe that Sawada Ietsuna and Sawada Tsunayoshi would still help Kozato Enma and his many adopted siblings to save their little sister no matter what. I want to tell him that. So I'll be speaking for the two of us.”

“You think too much for a little brother, Tsuna. Enma is smarter than you give him credit for.”

“Don't arbitrarily change your family position, Ie.” Tsuna made a face as he pushed his brother's head to one side and tucked his legs underneath himself. “And, I feel bad just leaving Enma's parents at the hospital, even if I know that Hibari-san's family is around them. Actually, I just feel bad about not doing anything last night.”

“Maître can still whoop ass, and Hibari's mother can hold up,” Ietsuna grumbled. “It's not your fault. We agreed to keep you out of it. Do you just feel bad, because Hibari is missing a fight?”

“Hibari-san can't bite ghosts who can possess people.” Tsuna grimaced as he got up. “Are you getting up, Ie? I can't feel my legs.”

Ietsuna rolled onto his back, considering the rising sun in the skies approaching noon as he obligingly got his head off Tsuna's lap and next to Tsuna instead. “I like this... feeling.”

“Feeling?”

“Like... on a boat, in the sea, if I sail long enough, I might find out what's beyond the horizon.” Ietsuna reflected. “I can touch the skies. It must be very strange. The blue sky is just the result of Rayleigh scattering, but it looks so solid. Only, behind the blue is actually a black void of empty space. The sky is empty.2”

Tsuna quietly thought about it, before getting up. “I'm going to stretch my legs.”

He could tell the exact moment when Ietsuna fell asleep; Gokudera looked at him. “Tenth, when did Reborn-san shoot you?”

“Reborn isn't here, Gokudera-kun.” Tsuna replied evenly, recalling that the Arcobaleno had excused himself from the Simon Famiglia, citing again that he was too good a hitman to be involved. Somehow in Hyper Dying Will, Tsuna felt like part of him had been lost to the emptiness his brother had mentioned.

“Gokudera-kun...”

“What is it, Tenth?”

“You have Bianchi...-san.” Tsuna lamely added the honorific because Bianchi was still Gokudera's family. “If you... no, if Bianchi-san did something unforgivable to you... how would you feel?”

“Aneki has already done all manner of unforgivable things,” Gokudera winced. “I count myself lucky to be alive. But if she tried to kill you again... I don't know how I would bear it.”

“And if it was Ie?”

“He's not Tenth. That copy could never be the Tenth.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Tsuna left Gokudera alone, the silver-haired right-hand man slightly confused. He next found Ryohei in the midst of a cross-boat yelling match with Koyo. It had been temporarily stopped by Julie, who was arguing with the red-head boxer right now.

“Onii-san.”

“Yo, Sawada! You have an extreme Flame on your head!”

“It's about my brother.”

“Oh, I see.” Ryohei turned from fired up to singularly unenthusiastic. “I guess the younger brother worries for the elder... or is it the opposite? I extremely don't know!”

“I think I may have done something to him.”

“Really?” Ryohei unenthusiastically added. “I really can't tell. Does that fix his extremely lazy personality?”

“I don't know. I do know that he's capable of working hard when he wants to.”

Chrome was keeping her distance from Julie, helped by the fact that the Simon guardian did not seem to be in the mood to flirt any more than perfunctorily, or even talk more than necessary now that the argument with Koyo had come to blows and required Adelheid.

Aside from that, Gokudera was observing Shitt P. with the focus reserved for UMAs. Adelheid was fussing, Lambo and Rauji had started talking about video games – the five-year-old taking the chance of Ietsuna not being awake to not do his homework. Yamamoto and Kaoru were talking about baseball. Koyo and Ryohei had started talking loudly again about something.

Tsuna was vaguely glad that Hibari wasn't aboard to disrupt the lull in emotions with more violence, and vaguely hating himself for allowing the thought to cross his mind. He was so absorbed that he never noticed the footsteps behind him, until Enma tapped his shoulder.

Ochre eyes met gold eyes. “It's Ietsuna-san, right?”

Wordlessly, the Sky nodded to the Earth.

“I know.” Enma nodded. “Older brothers worry for their siblings, right? Even if we're useless older brothers, and our siblings are the capable ones, I think our younger siblings would forgive us for worrying about them. I think it's fine.”

Tsuna stared at Enma. “Vongola.”

Enma nodded. “If anything happens to Ietsuna-san, the Simon Famiglia would help him. Just like how your Famiglia came to help us with Mami, we'll definitely help you protect him in the future.”

Tsuna nodded. A tear rolled down his cheek and dropped into the sea.

* * *

 

_**1Twin brothers Ronald "Ronnie" Kray and Reginald "Reggie" Kray were English gangsters who were the foremost perpetrators of organised crime in the East End of London during the 1950s and 1960s. Reggie was the sane one, Ronnie the ax-crazy one who popped off George Cornell at the Blind Beggar public house in Whitechapel in public.** _ ****************

2  ** _This here be double meanings: The word for 'sky', Oozora ( 大空) has the character for 'empty', meaning literally 'big emptiness'._**


	32. Folio 31: Paragone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Leafy is back! – LLS

Were it not for the seriousness of the situation, Reborn would have laughed. Shamal was cowering in a corner, trembling and rocking and mumbling nonsense. Timoteo barely even reacted other than to quip, “Alouette-san strikes again, I see.”

“Shamal, don’t be such a coward.” Reborn prodded the huddling mass none too gently with a Leon-cane.

“G- Grannies... wrinkly... embarrassing...”

Thump. Reborn whacked the Leon-cane into Shamal’s skull, hoping to break the poor doctor out of his stupor.

“Really, you idiot,” Reborn said in exasperation. “You hit on all sorts of women all the time. It’s pathetic that you would be defeated so easily!”

Timoteo shook his head. He had more than enough experience with Alouette Lei and her spawn to understand the sheer terror she inspired. “Leave him be, Reborn. Time is running out and we must catch up to Tsuna and his friends as quickly as possible... where did they go?”

* * *

Driving on the roads of Namimori, Alouette stretched languidly. “I hate biopsies, but at least the doctor was cute.”

“I'm sure Dr Shamal will be glad to hear that, Ma.” Fon twitched as the car nearly lost a side mirror to the hospital grilles. “It would improve his nerves. Yǔ, your driving hasn't improved at all.”

“At least _I_ can drive. You're in your thirties and you still haven't gotten a driver's license.”

Seated directly behind his mother, Hibari Kyoya barely twitched as the car came very close to a broadside hit, despite being at the totally legal speed of thirty kilometres per hour in suburban zones. His glare was focused on the two adults bickering at the front of the car.

“Bicycles are enough to travel about!”

“So says the idiot who tried to bike up to Jiuzhaigou without barely even a change of clothing.”1 U turned the steering wheel absently, nearly skirting the kerb in a practice of crazy driving in slow motion.

“Well, it was good training.” Fon justified himself.

“Oh, I remember that!” Alouette agreed. “It was all good right until you started to bike up in the middle of winter. I was worried.”

“Ma...”

“I was worried that you had lost all common sense with oxygen deprivation.” Alouette pursed her lips before grinning at the rear-view mirror, where her son's chagrined expression was clearly visible. “Well, Fēng is much like his name, willing to climb mountains to see the world. And Hong Kong was the port of the world. He could have gone anywhere from it.”

“No!” Fon protested. “The price of cordyceps in Hong Kong is too much, Ma. I managed to find some travelling across the mainland. Would you prefer a soup or a dessert?”

A vein pulsed in U's temple. “Why would you need so much medicine-”

She paused, reflecting on the uniqueness of  _Ophiocordyceps sinensis_  and its purported anti-cancer properties, coincidentally learnt by Fon around the first time the cancer had struck.

“...You're weak, Fēngzi.”

“How many times are you going to call me that, my dear _elder sister_?” Fon needled.

Alouette looked at him through the mirror. “Fēng. Yǔ.”

Twin glares gave their parting shots before Fon and U studiously ignored the other. Perched on his lap, Lichi pretended to faint from shock.

“Why do those two carnivores persist in acting like herbivores?”

“Eh?” Alouette blinked at her grandson. “Ah... right. You never met Fēng...”

Hibari opened his mouth to respond and abruptly shut it when he caught his mother’s rather frantic throat-slash flailing from the corner of his eye. “…No.”

“Just think of us like a pack of wolves!” Alouette chirped. “Your mother and uncle are trying to establish dominance over each other, so they engage in childish bickering and random bouts of violence in order to prove who deserves the beta position.”

“Beta? Shouldn’t they be fighting over the alpha position?” Hibari asked, interested despite himself.

“No. There’s already an alpha – me.”

“Even when you're sick?” Hibari clarified.

Alouette stifled a giggle. “I'm old, my bones are weak because that shitty doctor insists in taking biopsies everywhere, and I don't have a single weapon on me. The alpha position is up for taking at any time. Not fighting directly, but building one's forces is also a strategy to take up when the opponent has a larger pack at that time, Kyoya.”

“What are you teaching your grandson, Ma?!” Fon protested.

“We're here.” U parked before the front of Ciel Art Supplies. “We just need a suitcase, Ma. We can pick up anything else you need later.”

“Hmm...” Alouette frowned as the door next to her swung open, courtesy of her son. “The two of you, are you teasing me? I don't remember you being this filial.”

“I'm sorry for not responding all this time.” Fon smiled gently. “I have to treasure my amazing mother.”

“What's amazing is the fact that you can say such mushy things with a straight face, Fēng.” U remarked as she entered the mysteriously untouched shop by the mysteriously unlocked door. “The door's unlocked.”

“Oh, it must be Ken.” Alouette commented as she led the climb up a small flight of steps behind the main shop, which smelt vaguely of oil paints. “I shot down Chrome's proposal for a human-sized dog flap, but I am reconsidering since that idiot keeps leaving doors unlocked. I saw on the TV, there was that automated door. Should we use it? It comes with a collar.”

“You're going to the hospital?” Chikusa asked as Alouette walked to her bedroom and opened the door. “Will you be alright, Alouette-san? Alouette-san?!”

She walked into her room. Fon thought nothing of it, but a sharp cry from Alouette’s room had Fon and the others stumbling towards the sound.

“Ma?!”

“...Your brother is missing, Fēng.” Alouette turned on one heel to march out, just as the front door flew open again.

Hibari had just taken off his shoes and was disgruntled at the need to put them back on. “What is the meaning of this delay, old carnivore?”

“Mukuro and Chrome took your other uncle for an excursion, Kyoya.”

“My uncle?”

Abruptly, her head turned towards the other two boys currently trapped in her living room. “Ken. Chikusa. Where. Is. The. Pineapple.  _Brat_ .”

“What happened, Alouette-san-”

“He kidnapped my son.” Alouette's hands were shaking. “Fēng, he kidnapped Báo. Your brother is not here... _pas ici_...”

Ken stared at her. “What the hell shocked you into forgetting Japanese?”

“You mean... I understand, Ma.” Fon's head dropped, his back bending until he was level with his mother's half-lost expression. The expression he wore was like marble, devoid of any deviation apparent. “I am sure that Báo simply went on a trip with them. Ken and Chikusa will tell us where they are, surely. And then we'll get U to fly you to them, Ma, so you can scold them for not leaving a note.”

Fon turned to the pair next. The Kokuyo boys, hardened Mafiosi they were, did not quail visibly under the gaze of the strongest close-combat fighter of the Arcobaleno. It was a very close thing, since Ken was about to flee.

“Apparently, Rokudo Mukuro has stolen the  _Kuman Thong_  artefact that had been in the care of my mother.” Fon's gaze hardened, becoming the stormy petrel that all of their lineage seemed to possess. “He has endangered himself, and anyone else with him. Where is he?”

* * *

Mukuro swung out and landed neatly, avoiding the waves while he leaned to peer down at Julie's trapped foot as the rest of the combined Vongola and Shimon  Famiglie  gathered on their illicit, unsupervised excursion-slash-rescue on the beach of Shimon Island. “You got your foot stuck by a clam?”

“I got it stuck _in_ a clam!” Julie kicked out. A black thing fell off, landing and rolling on the beach as the fedora-wearing boy ran up onto the coast, a giggling Mukuro following behind him.

Tsuna immediately back-pedalled from the coast. “T- That's a really large clam!”

“There's nothing wrong with that. Giant clams are native to this part of the ocean.” Ietsuna walked towards the lump, picking it up with a critical eye, tracing the white lines in the black mantle and the night-black fluted shell it was contained in. “You know, they're more common to the warmer islands on the south. This fluted shell and intricate pattern on the mantle is part of the  _Tridacna_  genus.”

Big man seen, Lambo was now transfixed by the sight of the clam and its glistening grey patterned mantle shining through the folds of the shell creases, nestled in Ietsuna's hands. “Wow... they don't look like Asari-san in the hotpot or Vongola-san in the spaghetti at all.”2

“Well, this is its big sister who, despite her size, wants to live in peace without any sign of sabotaging us. Get off, Lambo, I need to return her.” Ietsuna pulled up his trousers slightly, wading out to set the clam back into the shallow waters. “You'll be happy as a clam – in high tide – here.”

Ietsuna  headed back to the  _Hiyayakko,_ just in time to see Tsuna 's silhouette already onboard . “Ie...” Tsuna came out of the cabin with Enma and Adel. In his hands were a set of tongs, and in the tongs was...

“It's out to get us!” Lambo hid behind Ietsuna. Ietsuna stared at the seashell, textured with straight lines of mottled shades of orange radiating out from the joint of the shell.

“This is proof of the molluscan conspiracy!” Gokudera declared. “It's out to get us! Tenth, toss it into the sea!”

Ietsuna looked at him. “There is no such thing as a mollusc conspiracy, Goku-”

Enma blinked, before his eyes glanced down. “Your pants are on fire, Ietsuna-san.”

“Not now, Enma-”

“Ietsuna-san!” Enma pointed down, causing all eyes to see that yes, orange flames had erupted around the region of Ietsuna's buttocks. A splash followed the sight as the other Sawada twin tossed himself overboard.

“Ie?!” Tsuna shouted, before he blinked as something was tossed at him.

Legs spread out and blinking as a wave crashed down onto him, Ietsuna directed a glare towards the two halves of the clamshell, orange Flames of Dying Will gently burning in Tsuna's hands. “Alright. There  _is_ a molluscan conspiracy around us, and it involves Dying Will Flames.”

* * *

Once the shells were put together, the Flames had gone out immediately. It proved that they were a pair. Unfortunately, it also did not cover how Ietsuna had gotten his hands on the other half.

“You set it up, Sawada Ietsuna!” Gokudera started, halfway between the beach and the path up to higher ground. You really had to admire the silver-haired hitman's tenacity to walk up and accuse his boss's twin at the same time, when around them a few were already tottering.

Shitt P. considered Gokudera behind her. “You're a bit weird, octo-head.”

Ryohei and Yamamoto broke a snort, Yamamoto recovering faster than the grey-haired boxer. “No, Gokudera's just being tsun-tsun.”

“Bad accusation.” Rauji said in his deep rumble. The panting Lambo perched atop his shoulder did not detract from the fact that Rauji probably outweighed Yamamoto, Gokudera and Ryohei together. “Brothers do not change.”

Gokudera grimaced. “It's... fratricide is not unknown.”

Behind them, Tsuna stopped walking. His thoughts had flown somewhere, and the only thing he could really feel was disbelief, numbing like the fire of a capsicum that was about to erupt.

“Gokudera-kun, I d- don-”

Ietsuna's hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“I don't think he meant it like that, Tsuna.” The sober assessment was a cooling balm.

Tsuna glanced back, and then hissed back once the rest of their Vongola-Shimon coalition was ahead of the path. “I don't believe that you would kill me to become the Boss. If you wanted it, I- I would've supported you.”

“I know.” Ietsuna agreed with another step up. “But the world is not simply composed of you and I. There are other Mafiosi too. And any of them would like to control the Vongola indirectly, or shift the balance of power to themselves. If the Boss is the hereditary ruler of Yamato, then there are shoguns willing to set up a _bakufu_ as well. Gokudera means well,” he added as an afterthought.

“But must it always be this way?” Tsuna posed in wonder.

“Dunno,” grinned his twin. “So... now that your angst is done with, we need to rescue Mami.”

The anger burned fiercer now, not directed at Gokudera for an absent error, but now with focused fury, arrowed towards Daemon Spade and the fact that he hurt three people. Enma, who never meant anyone harm; Mami, who never started fights until someone picked one with the Shimon; and Makoto-san, who had never been anything but kind and polite and supporting, but got stabbed and hospitalised for that kindness. And the fact that Mukuro was hunting Daemon Spade down meant that there was another good reason to want Spade dead, and the reason was likely related to Chrome or Alouette-san.

His pockets grew heavier, and Tsuna fished out the gloves in his pocket metamorphosing from yarn mittens to metallic gloves in the orange Flames of the shell he had unwittingly placed next to them. There was, he thought, a mystery to the orange shell.

His impression only deepened as the world started to explode.

* * *

In another nebulous future, ten years from the present, Lambo was a markedly different person. Hardly anyone who knew him in the past would have been able to imagine the young man entering a room quietly, but needs must and circumstances changed. So he strode quietly through the network of endless halls surrounded with stained glass that glimmered in a rainbow.

“Young Master? She is not here.”

The halls exuded an arrogant sort of oppressive wealth. Drapes had been hung across arches carelessly, fluttering by unknown breezes. The girl who was leading in front of him stopped walking. She wore a boiler suit in the exact same shade as the name she went by.

The scant sunlight streaming through stained glass windows created odd shadows and illusions. In the distance, the bells began their hourly call, and Lambo whimsically thought that he could feel the reverberation in his bones.

“Have you located Ōtan, Midori?” Lambo asked quietly.

The seven bells finished their toll by the time Lambo reached the interior where all the drapes led to; the empty, chapel-like nexus where stained-glass windows stood taller than a few houses to let light in. Grooves dug into the ground, guiding eddies of blued water into small canals and larger ditches separated from Lambo by the thin layer of glass.

“#3EB370 has not had any success, #3EB370 responds.” The girl spoke in a her typical carefully modulated voice. “It is too late, #3EB370 delivers her judgement, concluding that #FF4E20 is gone.”

“You can't find her, Midori?” Lambo frowned, but did not dispute her judgement, as she had been loyal all this time.

“#3EB370 further confirms that #FF4E20 is not currently connected to the network at present. To locate her would necessitate sortieing without consent.”

“We need Ōtan to make this succeed!”

“The requirements do not change the current state of affairs.” Midori glanced up, towards the drapes, and meaningfully stared at Lambo. “It is as if-”

“As if #FF4E20 has disappeared to a place where not even quantum communication has a chance of reaching her, Elmo suggests?”

Lambo whirled around to see another identical brown-haired girl with amber eyes; he could only tell them apart, because the other girl wore an orange taffeta gown with deck shoes, instead of a green boiler suit and dark boots. “Ah... shit.”

“Young Master Lambo, you have been taking liberties with the Rete Vongole,” Elmo commented. “Elmo admonishes that the Young Master already has a bodyguard, and does not need another unit. Furthermore, adds Elmo, any switch in staffing should be cleared at least with #2CA9E1, if not brought to Elmo's attention. Though we might be living Box Weapons, our actions must still be accounted to the mainframe.”

Lambo sidled next to the girl in green. “Whose number is that?”

Midori considered Elmo as one would a predator on the hunt. “To answer Young Master: the steward. It is irrelevant. #FF4E20 is no longer here. Is #3EB370 remiss in deducing that her disappearance is to do with the Administrator, posits #3EB370?”

“No, #FF4E20 is on a mission to ensure that we will be created, Elmo agrees.” Elmo then smirked. “#FF4E20 is in Namimori, December 2005. Even if Young Master was capable of scouring the earth for #FF4E20, it would require your past self to travel to his future and return with your current knowledge using the Ten-Year Bazooka. Checkmate, Young Master.”

The only visible sign of Lambo’s distress were his clenched fists. He was still lazily slouching, one eye closed and the other half open. “I see. So, we’re stuck here…”

“#FF4E20 has the power of absolute communication, Elmo ponders. Could it be, that the Young Master intends to blurt the secret of the Rete Vongole out?” Elmo clicked her tongue in disappointment. “It is no matter. #3EB370, you are removed from the Young Master's service. Stand down. We will arrest the Young Master until his worth is proven.”

“Midori?” Lambo turned to the girl in disbelief.

“#3EB370 must refute your order, Administrator,” Midori replied. “As one of the Big Seven series, #3EB370 has the Maestro's directive to the Young Master.”

“Maestro's directive must be overridden in light of this situation, Elmo rebuts.”

“But to do so would be to refute the core directive, #3EB370 points out. #3EB370 will serve the Young Master to the end.”

“It’s fine, Midori,” Lambo cut in. The so-called ‘Administrator’ was terrifying in her dogged ruthlessness. “There’s no need to go that far.”

“Oh? Elmo is interested in this display of independent programming,” Elmo huffed before said slyly, eyes sparkling. “This will hurt Maestro and the Rete Vongole should #3EB370 persist in this course of action, placing us on opposing sides.”

“#3EB370 must protect the Young Master. This directive takes priority.”

“Fine,” Elmo scoffed. “Elmo activates administrator sequence override: Prima Donna.”

“#3EB370 Midori, sortie.” Midori produced a pair of cutlasses from her suit. “Prima Donna refused. Combat mode initiated.”

Lambo drew a pair of horns out of his cow-print jacket, one horn wedged between the index and third fingers of each hand and ready to be worn. “Midori, what are the chances of us getting out of this alive?”

“Zero percent.”

“Seriously?”

“#3EB370 will hold the Administrator back. Young Master must escape.”

Elmo grimaced. “Elmo will regret having to kill you here and now, #3EB370. Surrender and the Young Master will be guaranteed a safe escape from here, Elmo offers.”

“You are relying on my sortie taking up my processing capability until it hampers my ability to reason to trap us.” Midori rebutted. “The others must be waiting to trap the Young Master once you have me trapped, #3EB370 calculates. The conclusion that #3EB370 has arrived at: by helping the Young Master to achieve his goal, the purpose to the Young Master will be fulfilled. The morals concerned with loyalties to the Rete Vongole are a non-issue.”

“I won't leave you.” Lambo nodded sharply said fiercely. “Midori, get us to safety.”

A flash of green heralded the crack of thunder set off in that enclosed space. Clutching a handful of crackling flames, Midori led the Lightning Guardian away in the cloud of smoke that erupted from the centre of the sudden electric strike.

A bullet shattered bare centimetres from Midori's booted feet.

“Order acknowledged.” Midori's face was serene even in the midst of escape, turning back to regard Lambo. “Destination requested for Black Cartridge worldwide teleportation.”

“Nairobi- no, Johannesburg,” Lambo decided, panting as another burst of black flame appeared exactly where his head had been a split second ago. “How well can she track us?”

“The Administrator is already tracking us, hence her numerous attacks.” Midori narrowly dodged a bullet that would have blown off her leg. The bullet embedded itself into an iridescent wall which cracked. Under Lambo's gaze, white liquid began to fill the wall and repair it, an unsettling sight. “It is only because of the _Castello di Vongole_ and its spatial anomalies that we are not being riddled with bullets now.”

Midori pulled out a black box, tapping its screen much like a digital pad. _“_ Those same spatial anomalies, however, would also lead Young Master off course, were I not present to guide you through it.”

“Get us out.” Lambo cursed under his breath as he dodged yet another bullet that instead shattered the marble floor upon impact. “There's no way I can fight here and now.”

“Anchors aweigh. Set course for Johannesburg. Time is five, four, three, two, one... Launch.”

Their figures were enveloped in black smoke, fizzling away just in time to avoid even more bullets.

Standing under the illuminated archway and awash in rainbow light, Elmo sighed as she put down the smoking IMI Uzi, which was covered in black flames. “It is your job, acknowledges Elmo. #3EB370... Elmo knows that the Big Seven series were created to serve the ones dear to the one that Papa holds dear. This rebellion lies within acceptable error parameters, thus it is permitted for you to escape for the present. Elmo acknowledges that it is your duty to follow your orders, #3EB370, even if that duty leads to rebellion against us.”

Behind her, a corona of black imploded, dropping a M2 machine gun mounted on its tripod. “Just as it is our duty to kill you in exchange, Elmo adds, even if we do not wish it!”

Lambo's yell was cut short as he crashed against a lamp-post, the plastic covering falling down to impact with a sickly crack. Midori crumpled with grace, the black smoke that erupted out of thin air somehow depositing them only a few metres above sea level, dropping the black pad onto Midori's stomach. Which, Lambo considered, was infinitely better than ending up in a wall.

“Ow...” Lambo winced, sitting up gingerly. “Midori... are you alright?”

“Y- Yes.” Midori sat up, her brown tresses crackling with green Flame that receded as she put the pad away. “We are not under pursuit at present. All clear. The time on hand is fourteen forty-six hours, Central Africa Time.”

“I'm so sorry, Midori,” Lambo knelt down to place his hands on her shoulders. “I couldn't get to I-Pin, and I caused you to leave your sisters.”

“We are weapons. We engage in battle under orders. That is our existence.”

Lambo grimaced, recalling a terrible memory from the depths of Siberia, a lone unit rejected by a then-ignorant young master, told to freeze to death and following the order to the letter.

That was before he was enveloped in an explosion of pink smoke.

Midori plastered a smile onto her face, despite the flash of consternation that overcame her expression earlier. “Welcome back, Lambo-sama. Would Lambo-sama like some grape candy?”

“Uwahh! Candy for Lambo-san!” the child shouted, but then stopped. “Onee-chan, why do you look tired?”

“I...” Midori shrugged. “I went on a long, long way to bring this candy to you. I just got back, Lambo-sama.”

Lambo nodded, pulling open the candy and offering one piece with a grand gesture. “Then Lambo-san will give you this candy! So cheer up, Onee-chan! A subordinate of Lambo-san shouldn't have such a long face!”

“Thank you very much. I will accept this gift-” Midori lifted the small candy on her palm, preparing to unwrap it but instead, pushed the child out of the next barrage into a recess of concrete and metal, blocked with her own body, which began to glow with green light.

“Onee-chan!” Lambo cried out as the bullets fired.

Midori could not hear over the bullets that materialised and tore into her body with percussive force. They rang out, like the brass bells of a cathedral as it bounced off of her skin. The Solidification of Lightning Flames stood well against the bullets, never penetrating through her to reach the young hitman. Lambo shouted, though her body curled around him and crouched down. The barrage ate into her back, drawing blood and cloth and rubber as she held on with a stifled hiss that graduated into a keening scream.

The ringing trailed off, bullets no longer pinging off of her back after what seemed like a sudden downpour of death passed. Slowly, hissing with every breath, Midori uncurled with measured, careful motions, breathing through her nose as she laid onto her front and exposed her essentially flayed back to the world.

Tired eyes met Lambo's own huge tear-filled ones to examine him, and then she glanced around and blinked. “Lambo-sama... it is almost five minutes. You'll be back soon. Do not move.”

“A- Are you alright?!” Lambo screamed. “Y- You're bleeding! L- Lambo-sama will do something! Lambo-san... Lambo-san...” the panic in his green eyes was sliding towards despair as Midori bled over the concrete. “...Lambo-san cannot do anything... Lambo-san can't save his subordinate...”

Midori's face was serene despite the nicks and blood covering her back. “Lambo-sama... you are w- weak. That is currently a fact. But... you have already met a teacher. That man... your Ie-nii... Ie-nii will teach you skills, and give you power as a hitman. When that comes, you will come back... and you will save me in your future. The future you... has entrusted... for me to give you.”

“I will!” Lambo burst into tears. “I- I'll learn lots of things! I'll become strong! And then... I'll come back, and I'll save you, Onee-chan! _Definitely_!”

* * *

Transported into the past, the aged-up Lambo rolled on the slightly damp ground, dusting the lapels of his cow-print jacket as he got to his feet suavely. Lambo drew a deep breath as the past formed around him. It was Shimon Island; only one place on Earth could have icebergs next to rainforests as naturally as could be.

Plus, there were the young Shimon and young Vongola fighting the spectre. The future had to give way to present concerns, especially with regards to that spectre possessing the Shimon Family's young mistress.

“Young Vongola... is it the time? When the pineapples and the melons start to have their great wars-” Lambo shut up as two nearly identical glared were aimed at his direction.

“Adult Lambo!” Tsuna gaped at him. “W- When did you-?”

“Lambo. Do you know how to deal with ghosts?”

Lambo's blood froze, as he slapped on a smile for the one who had taught him and cared for him.  _It's Ie-nii from before everything went wrong..._ “Master!”

“If you survived, then we must have survived with you somehow.” Ietsuna frowned at the teary cow-print hitman. “Can you talk?”

Lambo tried not to look at him. “I- I prefer not to screw up the timeline-”

“I see. Then how about the method to fight ghosts?” Ietsuna's eyes narrowed.

_I'm the same age as him now, right? I can refuse, right? If I refuse-_ “I- I can't say it.”

Amber eyes flickered away. “Then stay here.”

Lambo blinked. “Eh?”

“If you switch back in the middle of fighting, then the past Lambo would get hurt.” Ietsuna's cold explanation made as much sense as the stabbing feeling that Lambo felt. “This place has an elevated position. In one minute, set up a railgun and snipe at Daemon Spade. You can do that at least, right?”

“Ie!” Tsuna started. “What do you mean- that railgun would destroy Mami!”

“He can snipe the ground.” Ietsuna turned away. “He's a hitman, Tsuna, with his family at risk. He can fight Daemon Spade with us.”

Lambo swallowed.  _Ah, I remember now... The one who cared for me was Tsuna-nii. The one who took care of me was Ie-nii. I cannot do anything in my time... and Tsuna-nii... Ie-nii... I want to protect them. I want to fight._

_Even if I must give up all my power in this future, I will have my family back together again._

Tsuna's eyes flashed amber. “I see, Ie. We'll have to isolate Daemon Spade, but how to hit him- eh, Lambo!”

The grown Lightning had charged out, horns flashing with light on his head as he ran towards the red-headed girl.

“Separate them, Rokudo!” He bellowed towards the blue-haired illusionist.

Mukuro glared back. “I am currently fighting several illusions here-”

“Use the baby!” Then Lambo was charging at the possessed Mami.

The girl smirked, though the spade sigil made her face more unpleasant than necessary. “What are you intending?  _Dei Hazan!_ ”

“Against you, I won't even need _Bo-opis_!” Lambo yelled back as the attack hit. “Thunder Set!”

Mukuro grimaced, one hand already reaching into the bag which Chrome had toted along.

Overhead, clouds gathered, flashed of light against the blackness prominent as Lambo tackled the body. The flashes grew in volume, cascading from the heavens as a verdant thunderbolt consumed them.

“That idiot!” Ietsuna shouted, sliding down and running in a smooth transition from mountainous to flat terrain. “Lambo! Mami!”

“This isn't the time!” Tsuna started flying down. “Lambo, Mami! Are you-”

Tsuna, as the flyer, managed to reach them first, but then he realised that there were not two, but three bodies, as Lambo managed to get up and half-carry Mami away from the third.

“What is the meaning of this?” The third body...

Ietsuna skidded to a halt. Gokudera crashed into his back in shock.

“W- What is that?! T- That is... a UMA! A UMA with Mukuro's face!”

“I resent the implication.” A lump wrapped in red silk bounced in Mukuro's hand, the heterochromic eyes narrowing at the figure. “That cow knew I had this  _Kuman Thong_...”

The Mukuro lookalike touched his face. “Nufufufu... that cow brat used the Solidification property of Lightning Flames... you have traded my whole combat capability in exchange for a small trick, boy.”

“Assuming you can use it.” A coin vibrated as it was flipped, almost in small motion as Lambo extended one arm that was holding his old horns. Upon his head, Europa and Pasiphaë sparked as the coin reached his thumb-tip.

“ _Asterion._ ”

As Daemon's body has been solidified, it also accorded him a certain amount of mass. This mass was handy in interacting with the physical world, but it also made him a sitting duck to physical attacks and unable to dodge the coin travelling through his chest at three times the speed of sound. The supersonic bullet ate through him, burning its path through the air, a few trees, and throwing up dirt in its path.

Yamamoto and Ryohei stared. “Whoa...”

“Extremely awesome...”

“The stupid cow can use a railgun...” Gokudera blinked as the cow was still running, now towards the Hyper-Dying-Will Tsuna. “What is he-”

Lambo grimaced as he extracted another bazooka from his afro. This one was a lemon yellow, and could only send people into the past, without switching people. Luckily, the target he was choosing... could not be swapped back.

“I'm sorry.” Lambo apologised formally as he stuck the One-Way Bazooka over Tsuna-nii and fired it.

The Guardians stopped moving. Even the Shimon had stopped their fussing and checking on Mami to stare as one of the Vongola made his own Boss disappear. The smoke that rapidly faded made it clear that Tsuna was not there, not in any stage of his life or even location. Nobody was able to react at Lambo's sudden move, elation seguing into fear and dread in shock of what Lambo had done. One skill Reborn had unwittingly imparted and Master Ie-nii had unwittingly nurtured, was the ability to improvise in a crazy manner.

Lambo counted the people, setting his back to a tree. He grimaced as things went as he expected, and multiple palette knives bit into the wood which he used as a shield. That was a moment before the trishula, dynamites, katana and Magnum-punches made itself apparent.

“ _WHERE IS TSUNA, BASTARD COW?!_ ”

Lambo would have mourned, but the sounds of rotors whirling made themselves apparent. He could sight a black-haired prefect bearing tonfas preparing to leap out. It was probably for the best that running would only need four minutes before he could return, because not even the Vongola's strongest defender could stand against the family of skylarks.

Lambo only hoped that Tsuna-nii was alright.

* * *

_**1Jiuzhaigou (Chinese: ** _ _**九寨沟** _ _**; literally: "Valley of Nine Fortified Villages") is a nature reserve and national park located in the north of Sichuan province, China. It is known for its many multi-level waterfalls, colourful lakes, and snow-capped peaks. Its elevation ranges from 2,000 to 4,500 metres (6,600 to 14,800 ft).** _

2 _**No, I didn't get this wrong, neither is Lambo engaging in cannibalism of the Primo Rain Guardian, nor of the Famiglia. Asari is the Japanese name of the** _ _**Venerupis philippinarum** _ _**. It is an edible species of salt-water clam in the family** _ _**Veneridae** _ _**, the Venus clams. Likewise, Vongola means clam, but the true Vongola clam (** _ _**Vongola verace** _ _**) is called** _ _**Venerupis decussata** _ _**and serves as the star attraction in** _ _**spaghetti alle vongole** _ _**.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if you guys know it already, but I'm a bit worried about the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) and its stance on animé, manga and fanfiction, and whether it would affect my access to all three of them. I'm worried that it would affect FF.net and AO3, and I'm also buried in work. I want to finish Dioscuri in the event that the sites are hit with DMCA or something similar, so I'm going to concentrate my efforts on Dioscuri. – LLS
> 
> Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!


	33. Folio 32: Patina

Ten years into the future, Midori sighed a breath of relief when she glimpsed the signature pink smoke that heralded the arrival of an older version of her Master. From the cloud tumbled a pile of twitching limbs that unfolded into a lanky, handsome young man.

“Welcome back, Young Master.” Midori nodded in the cramped space.

“What happened? You-you’re hurt! Did you get hit?” Lambo frantically looked her over.

“The Administrator used brass machine gun bullets, but they did not hit us. Though they did cause quite a bit of collateral property damage-“

“Elmo used machine gun rounds against the past me?!” Lambo parroted incredulously, though the scene in front of his eyes spoke for itself.

“The Administrator did not know you had switched places, Young Master. Her focus was to obliterate your connection to the Rete Vongole.” Midori spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, as if her near-death was no big deal even if it was technically her sister and superior doing it. “It seems she has marginally succeeded.”

“But you said you weren’t hit!” Lambo protested.

“The Lightning Flames allow for my body to solidify against external forces. It does not cushion the internals of this model. Apologies, Young Master. It seems #3EB370 will not be able to follow you due to the extensive damage to this model. #3EB370 must shut down and divert all power towards the self-repairing systems.”

“What?!” Lambo yelled.

“By reverting to physical form, #3EB370 must focus all processing power into repairs.” Midori explained. She cast a critical, detached eye over herself. “Estimated time of completion: three days.”

“This is the end of our journey. You must continue. The tickets are awaiting you, Young Master.”

“Nope, not an option. Gyuudon can easily carry you. _I_ can carry you, as long as you revert.” Lambo frowned at his stubborn companion.

“Analysis of our current situation, suggests that the Administrator is capable of tracking us through some method, though she cannot observe our full circumstances.” Midori was no longer panting, focusing on crafting an argument to this dilemma that involved the Young Master leaving _now_. “Most likely, she has gained a lock on the quantum signature before sortie and separation from the network concept communication system.”

“Fine, then,” Lambo said mildly before he gave a sly smile. “Midori, I order you to revert and repair yourself.”

“#3EB370 has become a tracking device that the Administrator can track anywhere, at any time. It is not expedient-”

“I don’t care!” Lambo cut in. “Yes... leaving you behind might be a more efficient use of resources, and Master would agree with you, but these past ten years have taught me differently. I’m stronger now, and the plan – I just set the plan in motion. I will save you, and Tsuna-nii too! We will save everyone! You’re too important to me to write off with expediency or efficiency. You and Gyuudon are the best Box Weapons I could have. I wouldn’t stand a chance without you, Midori.”

“#3EB370 exists to support the Young Master.” Midori continued to deliver her epistle. “Your escape-”

“-is meaningless, because I will die without your support at my side against your sisters.” Lambo took a deliberate, deep breath. “I'll figure something out. I did manage to fight without you before we met, you know. But the storm that’s coming... I am going to need you to help me weather it to save the Vongola I loved. I’m sorry Midori, but- Execute order now!”

“...Authorisation: Vongola X Lightning, Lambo Bovino. Executing order. Emergency model repair prioritised.” Midori closed her eyes as her body dissolved into green and indigo flames.

A broadly triangular, asymmetric clam thudded onto the ground where she had been, glowing the sinister green of Lightning Flames. The edge of its shell was rounded, but its back was long. Part of its ridge-scored shell was cracked at the thin ligament, revealing the fleshy white mantle within, almost the same as Midori's injury. The clam clapped its halves, glowing faintly.

Lambo scooped up the shell and carefully put it into his pocket. “You just repair yourself, Midori. I'll find a way to Japan.”

A single glance was all Lambo allowed himself of the wreckage before he turned and ran as if Hell’s hounds were set upon him.

* * *

The setting sun painted streaks of purple and blood red, to match the fallen white-uniformed fighters lit by stray sparks of red, blue, green and yellow. It was a playground, or at least it used to be a playground before total carnage swept the place. The jungle gym was covered in sticky web, part of the plastic slides were melted, and the swing set had been completely fried through. Other parts of the sandbox spilled out from holes that had simply disintegrated through.

A wide-brimmed conical hat with yellow band floated to the ground as a young boy slammed into the blood-soaked earth.

“You should not move, #A22041 informs enemy Ginger Bread with the best intentions.”

Looming over the fallen Ginger Bread doll, her head tilted, the crown of her head was dominated by her hair swept back like a pair of topaz wings throwing shadows all over the place. Eyes of gold gleamed red for a brief instant – an identical shade shimmered about her digits as they fanned out, smoothing the hem of her red shirt-and-cargo-pants combination.

“Your companions have been defeated, #A22041 informs Ginger Bread carefully,” the girl said, tilting her head and narrowing her burning red eyes. “From one doll to another, your chances of survival increases if you surrender.”

“Alejandro created another series to handle us?” Ginger Bread scoffed. “I am flattered.”

“We do not recognise the name of Alejandro, #A22041 replies,” the girl said. “We are on the side of the Vongola, #A22041 clarifies further. Cross-referencing. No, we are not the creations of Alejandro of the Vindice.”

“ _Vongola_ ,” Ginger Bread sighed, leaning back to eye her. “I see. The Millefiore Famiglia lost the war, so you're here to capture us? The peace talks are supposed to be tomorrow, right? You Vongola scum don't even respect your own promises!”

#A22041 aimed a Flaming fist at her enemy’s torso, meeting the wooden handle of Ginger Bread’s broom.

“We are on the side of the Vongola, Vongola #A22041 clarifies again,” the girl in her eerie monotone. Black Flames erupted around her, and Ginger Bread shuddered at the horrible, familiar sensation. “We are not part of the Vongola Famiglia. Our Eldest Sister is clear on that.”

Suddenly, the two figures vanished, leaving only a destroyed playground. Moments later, pink smoke appeared out of nowhere and a young boy tumbled into the dirt.

Tsuna groaned when his stomach hit the twisted metal of the ruined slide. In his pocket, an orange Flame sparked, causing Tsuna to relax almost forcibly.

“What...? W- Where...”

Time seemed to pass, and even then Tsuna was not sure if the girl in the orange taffeta dress standing above him was a myth. The brown-haired girl that looked like Elmo – like himself in a dress – smiled at him.

“Although we have met before, this is the first time we stand face to face.” The girl curtsied, the tips of her fingers sparking in orange. “Hello, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. Rete Vongole, unit #FF4E20, at your service. Unofficially, the name is Ōtan. Welcome to Namimori Town, Japan, November 7, 2015.”

“The... future?”

“Ten years into your future, according to the One Way Bazooka's world line trace of the most probable future.” The girl's eyes flickered. “Forgive us, but #FF4E20 has dulled your emotional state in order to explain your situation.”

“What?”

“Like the Administrator – the one you know as Elmo – we have special abilities to correspond with the Flames we use. #FF4E20 is of the Sky Flame, like your Flame.” the girl began explaining. “The Sky's attribute is Harmonia. My power is to harmonise with the hearts and minds of people. It is keeping you calm as #FF4E20 explains the situation. You have been temporally displaced by the Young Master Lambo. The Administrator will come to return you to your time soon. So, #FF4E20 will protect you in the meantime, by keeping you calm and keeping everyone from focusing on you. Please do not panic.”

“ _..._ _time this month, more disappeared Millefiore fighters._ ” the voice came with running footsteps, like a charging battalion.

Tsuna's eyelids felt heavy, the smoke thick and cloying on his nose, and his natural panic somehow dampened by the girl's presence.

“ _This is bad...”_

“ _Ah! Kusakabe-san! Someone's here!”_

“K- Kusa... kabe... san...” Tsuna tried to reach out, the Regent hairstyle, a welcoming sign even in his half-conscious state. “Help...”

“He will not notice you, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.” Ōtan gently corrected. “#FF4E20 will protect you from being sighted.”

“Why?” Tsuna looked at her, unable to even muster a bit of anger or dying will.

“It will be detrimental to your safety. The One-Way Bazooka as we know it is permanent.”

“Kusakabe-san, help me.” Tsuna spoke in a monotone. Nobody but her caught his voice, or even turned a head.

“Please do not be so panicked, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. #FF4E20 only means to help- why is your panic increasing?” Ōtan looked around, her eyes settling onto the team of Regent-hairstyle men examining the site. “They are the men of Vongola X Cloud Guardian, Hibari Kyoya. We can scare them off-”

“Kusakabe-san, help me.”

Ōtan's shoulders relaxed. Her form disappeared, and then Tsuna could sense the moment when all of them mysteriously looked at him, noticing his existence once more.

“K- Kusa...kabe...”

“S- Sawada-san?” The exclamation of Kusakabe Tetsuya was incredibly welcoming to his ears. “How... Right. Get me an emergency blanket! This person needs to get to Kyo-san now!”

“ _H- Hibari-sama?_ _On it_ _!_ ”

“Kusakabe-san, I don't know what happened but we were fighting Daemon and then Lambo came at me with a bazooka and then Elmo, I mean Ōtan, appeared and she did something and I can't- I can't- I- I-” The words stuck in his throat, because the words 'molluscan conspiracy' just seemed wrong and could not embody the completely _wrong_ feeling of being immersed in Hyper Dying Will when he was supposed to be panicking.

“Lambo and the Ten-Year Bazooka, I see.” His senior just nodded and smiled. “I'm here, don't worry. I'll get you to... Kyo-san, alright?”

“Thank you!!!”

“Don't... erm, try not to cry too much...”

* * *

_ It was a fine night as the house burned behind them. Kneeling in  the lawn, straggling personnel gathered around the burning house, ignoring the pair who should be victorious, though brought down low by the one lying in his arms. _

“ _Tenth! Tenth!” the cry rallies up, and Gokudera sweeps down upon them, the emblematic never-ending storm. “Tenth...?”_

“ _He's dead... he's dead, Hayato.”_

Eyes of amber blinked about in the dimness. Not a hint of danger or malevolence showed itself, save for the heaving in his chest that sounded like the harrowing hounds. “ _Haa, haa, haa_... It's a dream?”

His pants took a while to die down. “Oh. It's a dream.”

“Are you alright, Papa? Elmo questions in worry,” the feminine voice that replied to his non sequitor in the heavy darkness resounded out of the blue.

He wiped at his forehead, struggling in the bedclothes in shock. “I'm fine. Are we still in the Iron Fort?”

“My apologies, Elmo excuses herself, but the matter of Herr Kœnig has been judged by Papa to be of paramount importance. The search of Herr Kœnig and the missing #EBF6F7 is still ongoing.”

The voice was carefully modulated, soothing in its lack of intonation or hint of any worry. “The beacon of #EBF6F7 has yet to become ocean-coloured – the unit is operating, but is merely out of our reach at the moment. We are not in danger of being exposed.”

“Hmm... I see,” he mused. “#EBF6F7... that's Aij-iro. Mist-primary, engineering department… Kœnig must be looking to expand his Armatura Series with her without attracting our attention. Why didn't he leave a word?”

“Herr Kœnig obviously saw that his chances of survival would increase should his laboratory assistant follow him, Elmo catches on,” she replied. “Elmo would however like to voice, that a Lightning-primary like #99AB4E would be more suited to Herr Kœnig's concept of the adaptable armour.”

“Hmph,” came the answer. “After I reassigned Midori, Karekusa became our Chief Gunner. You're right about Karekusa being a better fit for Kœnig, of course, but Kœnig can't take Verde's unit.” A sigh followed his assessment. “We have a problem with missing units lately.”

“Elmo does not understand your reasoning, Papa.” Elmo's cadence lifted in questioning. “Is this about #FF4E20? Or the Young Master's betrayal and escape?”

He waved one hand, despite the gloom meaning that the motion was meaningless. “All of them. Midori and Aij-iro are merely following their directives. _But_ , I do not appreciate Ōtan being let loose. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Papa. I will not leave our units in temporal displacement next time to sabotage the rebellious Young Master.”

“Good. Now go back undercover.”

“Yes, Papa, Elmo saves your commands and reasoning. Switching to undercover mode.”

A pair of curtains were twitched aside, to reveal a girl with long, messy brown locks and a streak of dark blue paint on her left cheek. The sunlight itself seemed like a pale backdrop to her unkempt cover and the smile that she bore.

“Good morning, Papa.” She greeted the man on the bed in a manner completely unlike the robotic professionalism that she had projected in the darkness.

“Good morning, Amaya,” the man yawned, pulling his blanket up. “Thanks for waking me up.”

“Oh, well,” she smiled back. “Gokudera-san is outside, if you'll have him.”

“Yes.”

A wry smirk crossed her face, and the man in the bed could barely compose himself in time for the veritable storm personified to storm in with her opening of the door.

“Good morning, Tenth!” the silver-haired hitman loudly proclaimed, enough to disrupt the skylarks singing outside.

“Good morning, Hayato,” the man replied without batting an eye. “You look well today.”

“Thank you very much, Tenth! You look well today!” Gokudera paused, the joy in his face falling as Elmo, or Amaya, wheeled in a tray from outside. “About the meeting with the Commission... I couldn't get it rescheduled. It's such an important day for you too. I will commit _seppuku_ to repent!”

“It's fine,” amber eyes closed. “You did what you could as the Famiglia's _sottocapo_. If I can move on, that would be... what Ie wanted.”

Gokudera bowed in sympathy. “Tenth, I'm sure that Ietsuna-sama would smile in heaven to see you accepting his passing.”

There was a clink of steel and ceramic, before two cups on individual saucers were presented. “Coffee, Papa? Gokudera-san?”

“Ah, thank you, Amaya-san,” Gokudera accepted the cup. “The Tenth's daughter makes excellent coffee, as always! The Tenth's coffee is better, of course!”

“Is that so.” he commented. “I always thought that Ie made better coffee... but I got the cooking skills...”

His lips thinned. “It's tomorrow, right?”

“Yes.” Gokudera inclined his head. “But the Commission meeting is only half a day. There is time to visit the grave.”

A nod. “Let's get today's business done with. What’s on the agenda?”

“That video conference with the bastard. Then you said you wanted to pick up the baseball idiot and the boxing idiot at the airport personally. Neither the crybaby nor the pineapple have sent word, Tenth.”

“Your mail, Papa.” the girl named Asari Amaya held up a postcard from the coffee cart. “Chrome-san sent in a postcard from Nepal. Their last cellphone broke.”

“Then that's the Mist.” Gokudera pouted. “Why does that bastard always lose his phones?”

“It can't be helped, Hayato. Mukuro has a tendency to end up far from urban zones.” The man considered. “It's been eighteen hours... if Lambo doesn't report back in six hours, start a search from his last known location. I will not lose anyone else!”

“Yes, Tenth!” Gokudera nodded. “And... the Giglio Nero Boss wanted to meet you, about the progress of their separation from the Gesso after... the Millefiore.”

“Starting wars is easy, but the clean-up is hell.” The corners of his lips turned down. “Byakuran is still hiding?”

“We don't know. The Sky Mare Ring is gone with him, and the remaining six Rings are hidden amongst nine wielders.”

“Eleven? The real and fake Funeral Wreaths are equal in number, correct?”

“Irie Shouichi and Gamma are not counted, and there is only one user of the Cloud Flame in our known list of contenders.”

“Oh, right... sorry, I forgot. Who is it?”

“His name is Kikyo.”

“I remember him next to Byakuran during... that day. That's their Cloud... and the rest?”

“Yes. Then, eliminating Kikyo from our assessment... that leaves us: Zakuro and Rasiel for the Storm. Bluebell and Glo Xinia for the Rain. Genkishi and Torikabuto for the Mist. By process of elimination, Daisy and Ghost would each be a holder of the Mare Rings. We were lucky that the Vongola Rings never surfaced after Ietsuna-sama... hid them with his life.”

“Yes.” the man on the bed slowly said. “All of them are in our custody?”

“Ghost was killed in Vendicare a year ago. Rasiel is in his own country with Genkishi, and safe from extradition or infiltration. Glo Xinia is unknown. Kikyo has also taken the rest and are laying low.”

“Rasiel... that's Belphegor-san's twin, am I right?”

“...yes.”

“The Varia would enjoy it. Especially Belphegor-san, who killed his own twin brother...”

“Tenth...” Gokudera swallowed. “Please... don't force yourself.”

“I hate them, Hayato.” Teeth gritted and ground. “I hate myself for this, but I hate them. I have lost my twin brother because of those Millefiore bastards and their crazy boss Byakuran. I want to be cruel, but... It was my weakness that killed him in the first place. I just want... to be at peace.”

Somehow, the man had ended up leaning on Gokudera, who slowly put a hand onto his head. “It's alright, Tenth. It's alright to miss your brother. No one expected him to die. But you, Sawada Tsunayoshi, are alive, and you got closure at the funeral, right? His body was purified in the fire.”

Unseen by Gokudera, one amber eyes flicked open, burning almost black. “Yeah, Gokudera. You did it.”


	34. Folio 33: Scumble

Once alone and out of sight in the Iron Fort, the girl headed to her atelier. Technically it wasn’t hers, but she was the only one in the family who still used it. Her Papa could not use the atelier that had been made for him, due to being officially dead, and the cover identity of her Uncle had never been known for his artistic talents.

Once inside, she peered around the room for eavesdroppers, before making her way to a hidden alcove, eyes closed.

“Undercover mode released. Forward all communication.”

Her eyes snapped open. “Ōtan made it back... with him... keep an eye on him, #FF4E20. Elmo will inform Maestro. Undercover mode back on.”

Turning on one heel, she strode out of the r oom. She passed a few patrols in suits, but most of them knew better than to stop her. The few who stared were quickly taught to do otherwise. 

Papa was already in his disguise in the entrance hall, wearing a formal suit of black and white paired with the black shell cuff-links. In the crook of one arm, he carried a bouquet of white hydrangeas. “Oh, Amaya. Are you coming along? We're having a video conference with Hibari-san.”

“Papa, the saffron paint started running across the Namimori painting.” Elmo spoke in Japanese, placing an emphasis on  _Namimori_  to indicate that the message was in code. “I'm so sorry, but I have to fix the mess I made earlier.”

“Saffron- oh, the _Nihonga_ painting,” 1 The Maestro nodded in comprehension. “Is it bad?”

“Very bad,” Elmo said. “I don't know if I'll be able to submit it to the Accademia in time.”

“Emphasise on the lines here, alright?” was his parting words. “Try to use a purple, give it some shade. And don't worry, I'll send you all the way to the Beaux-Arts if needed. But you'll have to come later, alright?”

“I will! _Ciao_ , be safe.”

“No goodbye kiss?”

“People would talk about my complex for my adopted father, Papa.”

“Are you shy, Amaya? That hurts.”

“Don't worry, I'm sure you want a private conversation with Hibari-san.”

He laughed bitterly, leaving in a swish of a black jacket. Now alone in the entrance hall, Elmo stood at the top of the open banisters, decoding his words.

The Maestro had given her permission to teleport others, but not herself. She had to deploy a Cloud unit,  _one_ unit, to retrieve #FF4E20 instead. She had to inform him of the situation once he returned from the grave, or even earlier than that, if things went wrong. Nodding, she retreated back into the atelier, bolting the doors before disappearing in a burst of black flame.

Elmo reappeared in the chapel, where she had last chased the Young Master and #3EB370 through. “Elmo to #4F284B,” she spoke. “Requested to retrieve two parties in Japan.”

An inky black portal appeared next to her, and another clone, this time in a purple shirt and blue jeans, walked out of the portal. Unlike Elmo, the eyes of the other were narrowed.

“#4F284B requests clarification of mission from Administrator, given that retrieval is not the usual scope of mission granted.” spoke the clone, her words crisp and her tone flat.

“#FF4E20 has reappeared from the past with Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama in present-day Namimori Town, Japan.” Elmo explained. “They are under the custody of Kusakabe Tetsuya, and soon to be under watch by Vongola X Cloud Guardian Hibari Kyoya. More than one unit will be required, especially to fight that man and still keep our activities discreet.”

The clone considered it. “Will #4F284B be required to perform introductions, volunteers #4F284B?”

“It is doubtful. Hibari Kyoya, on assessment, only uses the  _Porscopino Nuvola, version Vongola_. He will not require a unit of the Rete Vongole.” Elmo considered further. “The mission is: to retrieve Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama and #FF4E20 back here. Elmo will return Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama to the past. If necessary, priority is to the safety of Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama and termination of #FF4E20. If necessary, #4F284B will introduce yourself with your given name. Other details will be relayed via concept comm. Is there anything else, inquires Elmo?”

The brown-haired, amber-eyed girl in purple glared back at her identical overall-wearing sister. “No, refutes #4F284B. Ready to sortie.”

“Then, to Namimori.” The portal erupted on command, and the clone walked through it. “Have a safe trip, Murasaki.”

The portal winked out.

* * *

“So... I guess that's the Ten Year Bazooka, right?” Kusakabe enquired, half-carrying Tsuna across Namimori. Despite his unique hairstyle and the fact that he was toting around an injured minor, there was nobody around to stare or call the authorities.

“Probably... yes, Kusakabe-san.” Tsuna winced at the truth. “Kusakabe-san knows?”

“Yes. I am in the Foundation, which is an offshoot of the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee.”

“That's... so like Hibari-san.” Tsuna giggled over how some things simply did not change. “But, the Adult Lambo... sent me back. What happened?”

“I don't quite understand either.” Kusakabe sighed. “We're still recovering from a Mafia war, so Lambo would be sent on missions out of contact for weeks and months.”

Fear seized at Tsuna. “Then... Gokudera-kun and the others...”

“Ah, they're fine!” Kusakabe grinned. “We had a bit of scare during the Mafia war when Tsuyoshi-san- Remember him?”

“Yes, he owns Takesushi,” Tsuna nodded. “Yamamoto's father. Did something... happen to him?”

“Well, there was a bit of a scare, but Tsuyoshi-san is still alive and kicking.” Kusakabe smirked. “And Yamamoto turned to pro baseball, so that's that. And Sasagawa-san- the older one, I mean, became a boxer. Gokudera-san is in Palermo for the main Family, probably freaking out now that you're here... but he's fine.”

Tsuna swallowed, because that was a distinct possibility. Especially since it looked like not everyone had escaped the violent Mafia world.

“You saw Lambo. Cocky kid with a railgun.” Kusakabe shook his head. “The Kokuyo gang- they're still around- are in Myanmar at the moment, but... well, after Obaa-san died, Rokudo-san and Kyo-san... became friends? Enemies who fight and watch the flowers together?”

“A- Alouette-san _died_?” Tsuna blinked in shock. “I- I can't believe it.”

“Cancer. We all expected it to happen, even if she was still walking on her own. Fon-san cried at the funeral. Even Reborn-san couldn't say anything. It was awful,” Kusakabe shook his head. “She would have hated it. She kept picking a fight with Kyo-san close to the end. Beat him a few times, too, which just shows that old ladies are terrifying.”

At this stage, Tsuna was looking at Kusakabe's expression. The well-meaning senior kept rambling, trying not to look at him, even as they approached the high steps leading to the Namimori Shrine. Kusakabe's words prattled on about other people, even as they continued to avoid one person.

As Kusakabe readied to climb, he swallowed. “And... Ietsuna-san...”

Kusakabe took a deep breath. “The Mafia war... was against the Millefiore Famiglia. We won, and you killed the enemy's Boss, but Ietsuna-san... he died.”

Tsuna paid no attention, even as his arm was practically used to hoist him up, his legs having lost all strength to do anything but knock his feet at the steps. They reached the top, and his arm slid out of Kusakabe's grip to slam his whole weight against the edges of the steps, but the sharp prick on his ribs fell in the face of his numb shock.

“Ie... dead? I... how? I... I...? He...?” Tsuna's lips parted and joined as he kept trying to verbalise his questions. “I... I wanted to keep him safe. I... I kept him from the Vongola, right? Kusakabe-san?!”

Kusakabe crouched down, the better to hold a hand up to Tsuna. “He... he was safe. Apparently, your grandfather left a small fortune in Siena for whichever grandson didn't end up with the Vongola. It kept Ietsuna-san independent from your father and the Mafia, it paid for his education.... He went to Europe, got an art degree, sold some paintings. He was... happy. But, the war happened, and... You and he were at the Millefiore Famiglia's base that night, and we don't know what happened. We found you- the future you, I mean – holding his body and crying.”

Kusakabe paused. “We took you two to get treatment, but Ietsuna-san... Gokudera-san arranged the funeral. They cremated his body, Reborn-san and Gokudera-san. At the next Obon, a year ago, you – I mean, the future you, announced that the Vongola was going legit.”

Tsuna numbly allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “What... was I doing?”

“The future you really tried hard.” Kusakabe swallowed. “People die in war. It could have been worse. Kyo-san can explain it better than I can.”

Tsuna nodded, licking his dry lips. “Yeah. Uhm.”

Kusakabe silently led Tsuna to the back of a shrine. They entered a steel trapdoor behind the shrine, Kusakabe bolting it behind him once they had walked through it. The inside was huge, larger than expected, a corridor of concrete floors and whitewashed walls covered in pipes leading into darkness, lit by small lights in the ceiling. Tsuna fell into step behind Kusakabe, footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.

“He... Ietsuna-san knew what he was doing.” Kusakabe awkwardly continued. “Nobody could have stopped him. He was smiling when-...he died as he chose to. It's going to be his death anniversary soon.”

Tsuna stopped walking. “Is... his grave here?”

“Eh? No... he was interred on the estate with the rest of your forefathers.” Kusakabe shook his head. “Apparently only Bosses were supposed to be put to rest there, but... the old Ninth had Ietsuna-san buried with your grandfather and the rest in another part. Something about giving him the recognition he deserved as part of the family at last.”

“Oh.” Tsuna considered it. On one hand, he doubted that Ie recognised _himself_ as part of the Vongola. On the other hand, putting his twin brother away from the rest of the Family felt wrong. “So... he's in Italy...”

“But I think you have bigger concerns, right?” Kusakabe asked.

“Eh?”

“Well, it's been more than five minutes already. And you still haven't returned to the past yet.”

* * *

Alone in an office containing several monitors and electronic devices, the brown-haired man sat facing a screen. On the screen was a raven-haired man wearing a mouse-coloured  _kinagashi_ .

“New clothes, Kyoya-san?” the brown-haired man smiled. “They suits you.”

On the screen, Hibari Kyoya glared back. “I never gave you permission to use my first name. How long are you going to keep up this charade?”

“Charade?” the brown-haired man pouted. “Weapons research is very important. It might not seem like it, Kyoya-san, but this is a crucial first step to legitimacy.”

“Of course. Legitimacy.” Kyoya scoffed in derision. “And if I were to bring up the mysterious disappearances of several former members of the Millefiore Famiglia, leaving behind no evidence, except for references to clams?” 

Brown eyes hardened. “I would say that Vongola has nothing to do with it,” came the crisp reply. “Vongola annihilated the Millefiore, at too high a cost. Any surviving remnants have been absorbed into the Giglio Nero Famiglia.”

Hibari smirked, looking somewhere else on the screen before looking back at him.

“Having the Vindice drop on our doorstep would be troublesome either way.” concluded the brown-haired man with a glare. “How many cases have appeared so far?”

“Ah, I will bring you evidence of wrongdoing soon.” was Hibari's confident reply. “Your brother has arrived here.”

The other man blinked slowly. “Kyoya-san, what are you talking about. Ie- he’s… not here anymore. That’s why the Millefiore Famiglia is gone.” 

Grey ey es visibly sharpened, even through the computer screen. “What do you mean? “What do you mean? A younger Sawada Tsunayoshi has arrived here. The cow herbivore is nowhere to be found. And of course, there cannot be two Sawada Tsunayoshis at the same time. So, one of you is not Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“...”

“You seem to have forgotten, that the skylark is diurnal and persistent.” Hibari smirked. “I might not have proof then, but I will make sure you will not ruin his legacy here. You should have tried for Undicesimo, rather than stay as Decimo.”

The brown-haired man leant back. “To prosper or to ruin, are the choices of the Decimo. There will never be an Eleventh . I promised him that, so it will never happen. Even if I must do what I did, what I am going to do, and what I will do. The Vongola Mafia Famiglia will end at its Tenth Generation.”

Grey eyes examined him, even transmitted as a series of pixels rather than an actual meeting. “The most foolish of motives. And yet, the most powerful of motives.”

“Then why are you in my way?” Amber eyes gentled on a screen in Japan.

“...why indeed,” Hibari admitted slowly. “I can understand your motives, and your actions. Tsunayoshi would not want you to be like this. So I will end you, before you do any more damage, and destroy the legacy of the brother you loved.”

Hibari’s image flickered off, right before the screen’s surface cracked violently. Black flame suffused the web-cam, cracking its lens and frying its circuitry as the brown-haired man stood. “Bastard,” he cursed.

At the same time, a knock resounded behind him. “Papa? Amaya has come. Are you alright?”

“Come in. Close the door.”

The girl slipped in, closing and locking the heavy door of brushed steel behind her. “#FF4E20 sent a message that Elmo could not receive undercover,” she began. “The Young Master was apparently sent back in time, and during his sojourn then, he sent-”

“I know! Hibari just told me!” the man turned on her. “Tsuna... is here. The Tsuna from ten years ago. Murasaki is already in Japan, right?”

“Yes. We will retrieve Uncle, and Elmo will send him back to his time at the Castello.”

“I want to see him.”

“Elmo begs your pardon, but there is a chance that if the two of you meet, there might be a chance that you will influence the future.”

The brown-haired man considered it. “He's my brother! Must I really?”

“Maestro, you created Elmo with questioning capabilities to reason the logical faults of your plans. Elmo is merely raising the extreme possibilities that could derail the intended ends.” Amber eyes gentled. “However, Elmo does not believe that you will not be able to see him without him seeing you, before Elmo must send him back.”

“...I understand,” the man relented. “Hibari knows. I think... that being the leader of the Foundation must be dangerous.”

“Elmo will relay the mission addendum to #4F284B immediately.”

“Please do.” The man sank back into his office chair, wiping his palm over his eyes. “Well... I will visit Uncle, and then we will pay a visit to our friend in the Giglio Nero. Let's hope that Ai hasn't screw up.”

“Elmo is sure that #264348 has flawlessly infiltrated the Giglio Nero. There is, after all, no reason to suspect that Donna Yuni could fight, and thus no reason to have used the orange pacifier.” Elmo wore a small smile. “Please rest at ease.”

“Hmm...” the man hummed in thought.

Elmo waited for a moment. “Papa. Are you worried about being discovered?”

The man sighed. “The philosopher Empedocles died, by throwing himself into Mount Etna. He did it so that the people would believe his body had vanished and he had turned into an immortal god. Yet, the volcano threw back one of his bronze sandals, revealing the deceit. I worry that we will be discovered, far too early for our liking.”

“Do you regret it, Papa?”

The man considered, and his eyes hardened. “No. She was a victim as much as he was. And... we cannot waste the work of you and your sisters. I was able to roll back the Vongola, and start its transition to legitimacy, because of these efforts. I will not let  _anyone_ get into the way of his dream. Not even Hibari Kyoya, the bastard.”

Elmo inclined her head. “As you wish.”

* * *

“I don't know.” Tsuna sighed. “I met a- a- a-”

“Hmm?”

“I... forgot...”

“Oh, don't worry.” Kusakabe spoke, never turning around to see Tsuna's look of dawning horror. “I'm sure Kyo-san would be able to arrange something if you need to stay for a bit.”

Behind him, Tsuna whirled around. “What's going on?”

“We are a secret, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.” Ōtan cleaned her fingernails on the hem of her dress, standing next to him. “Our Maestro would be troubled if you revealed our existence.”

“What did you do to me?” Tsuna demanded.

“I synchronised your mind to the situation and imperatives at hand.” Ōtan replied with a smile. “By yourself, you have revealed several weak spots which a talented reader of body language would have spotted and exploited. Like this, you will be safely understood to have nothing to do with this until the Administrator arrives.”

“I don't need something like that!” Tsuna retorted. “Kusakabe-san-”

Amber eyes widened, and Tsuna collapsed against the wall, his head cradling in pain.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. This model, like most physical forms produced by the main unit, is currently understood to be an illusion by your mind.” Ōtan added, a touch regretful. “Your sense of embarrassment and restraint has operated against you, because your subconscious understand yourself to be talking to thin air. My apologies for the discomfort. It will fade if you relax and trust me.”

“I can't trust you!”

“Sawada-san?” Kusakabe blinked, having turned back once it looked like Tsuna was no longer following him. “What do you mean?”

“It's not you!” Tsuna protested. “I- I-”

“I recommend a course of silence, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.” Ōtan, or the illusion of her, spoke. “If you persist, the amygdala function would heighten to levels far above what I can sustain, and your Dying Will Flames will activate here. In such a contained space, it will burn Kusakabe Tetsuya.”

Tsuna sank to the ground as the situation hit him. “You're... Mukuro. You're like Mukuro. Get out of my head.”

“I am not in your head, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.” Ōtan looked genuinely confused. “I cannot fulfil an impossible order. Why is your amygdala function increasing? There is nothing to fear. On comparison, this is just like just now at the playground-”

Another set of footsteps echoed. Ōtan stopped talking. Tsuna's eyes flickered to the side as the sound of clogs echoed in the space, and a shadow was thrown over them.

The shadow shrunk. Tsuna glanced up, meeting sharp grey eyes shrouded by a curtain of raven-black bangs, and the fanned tips of an outstretched hand.

“I understand what that cow herbivore was talking about.” The voice that spoke was deep and calm, much like a weighty cloud cast over the sky. “Sawada Tsunayoshi. Give me the clam.”

Nerveless fingers handed it over without protest.

The orange bivalve erupted into Flames, which met and was subdued by violet Flames, trapped between slender yet callused fingers of Hibari Kyoya. “This...” Ōtan's voice spoke in his mind. “My ability to synchronise with others is perfect! Why is this human not comprehending?!”

“It seems like someone is messing about with time.” The orange shell was walked across his knuckles. “Do you understand what this is, Sawada Tsunayoshi?”

_We were created as weapons..._

“Did anyone tell you?” came the imperious question.

“I- It was a dream!” Blood flowed from Tsuna's lip as he unknowingly bit down. “Elmo told me... Hibari-san.”

“Kyo-san?” Kusakabe quietly asked. “What is that? A clam?”

“Tetsu.” the raven-haired Cloud barely turned his head. “Remember when you could never tell the little animal and Sawada Ietsuna apart?” 

“Yes...”

“Consider, for a moment, that the wrong twin was cremated two years ago. Then things would become clear.” Legs straightened, and Hibari stood back up, the clam still trapped between his fingers. “After all, a dead man cannot invent pocket monsters like these. This will be the proof needed to prove it.”

“Oh crap.” Kusakabe looked from Tsuna to the clam and back. “T- Then... the Vongola Boss...”

Tsuna swallowed. “You mean... instead of Ie...  _I_ died, and he's masquerading as me. And... nobody could prove that, even if you said so, because there was no proof until I gave you that clam. Her. Hibari-san... do you know Elmo?”

There was a long pause, during which grey eyes considered him. Then, one short, sharp nod made itself known. “I have been looking for proof these two years. Besides me, the cow herbivore was undercover. He has finally gained possession of another unit, much like this clam. The one you know as Elmo is-”

Behind Tsuna, what sounded like an explosion reverberated down the corridor. This was followed by another set of footsteps, its stride calm and precise, and then Tsuna realised that it sounded light, like a woman's. He turned around, gaping as another copy of Elmo, but in jeans and a purple shirt with low-heeled shoes, arrived.

Amber eyes blinked, shifting to the side as if there was another voice talking to her. “#4F284B has been given instructions to retrieve Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.”

“Oh? It talks.” Grey eyes glittered as Hibari held up the clam. “Since you have destroyed the entrance of the base, I presume that you are related to this as well. So, state your name and business.”

“Rete Vongole unit #4F284B, of the Vongola dei Cieli. Given name, Murasaki. #4F284B has been instructed to safely transport Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama, temporally displaced from the year 2005 to the present year 2015, back to headquarters, where the Administrator will bring him back to his time.”

“...Such a civil response, for an invader.” chuckled the other. “To send only one opponent, though, might be your Administrator underestimating the Foundation.”

A hand grabbed Tsuna from behind, and the teenager was spun around until he was being held in a choke-hold. Tsuna grabbed at the hand, and then turned his head in realisation of the second Murasaki holding him. “W- What-?”

“T- There are two of them?” Kusakabe exclaimed. “I didn't see her!”

“Erroneous conclusion.” spoke the girl. “We will depart now, replies #4F284B.”

“Wait!” Tsuna struggled, scratching against the forearm on his throat as he was dragged really quickly down the corridor. “What about her?”

“Please clarify.” An identical voice spoke behind him.

“What about Ōtan?”

The body dragging him stopped for a brief moment. “The orders were to prioritise your retrieval. #FF4E20 is a weapon. There will be another. As long as you live to return to the past, there will be another.”

_Elmo, and those like Elmo, are somatic cell clones... that use_ **classified information** _as the original model... Elmo is the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration, the administrator of the network... up to 16,777,214 clones..._

Tsuna stopped moving. “You... Ōtan... even Elmo... who made you?”

“Irrelevant, replies #4F284B.” Murasaki tugged, hissing as orange Flame licked at her palms. “Sky Flames... when did you access the Dying Will pills?”

“It was Ie, right?” The amber eyes that met Murasaki were cool now, cool with rage barely contained. “Ie... made you from... himself?”

“Please come, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.” Murasaki continued, ignoring the burns along her arms.

“No. I will not follow. This is confusing! Your words and your transformations and now Ōtan says that she can control my mind! I've had it! I don't trust you all!”

The Murasaki in front considered him, like a blank slate unable to process the world. Her eyes slid to the side, and rolled before they focused back to him. “It is noted. Your concerns have been relayed to the Administrator via my link to the concept communication system. The reply of the Administrator: Your trust is not needed. Your fears are not needed. Only your compliance is necessary.”

Another hand grabbed his wrists, away from the burning gloves as Tsuna was wrestled to the ground. Tsuna struggled against the preternatural grip, blinking as he noted that he was wrestling with more hands than the other Murasaki should have.

A thud sounded, as the orange clam clattered to the ground. Hibari considered the hand that disappeared from the surface of his forearm. “Body duplication...”

Murasaki beckoned quietly. A hand grew from the ground, tossing the orange clam to the first Murasaki's hand, who tossed it to the second Murasaki. “Priorities attained. Pulling out.”

Tsuna struggled some more as he was lifted up by the second Murasaki. “How is this happening? H- How do you have so many arms?”

“Special ability.” Murasaki tonelessly replied. “#4F284B is not allowed to relay the mechanics of the ability.”

“I think you're mistaken.” assessed Hibari as the other Murasaki prepared to leave. “Numbers and the element of surprise will not change the fact that you are not leaving with that herbivore.”

“I'm back to being a herbivore, Hibari-san?!” Tsuna wailed.

“You got caught simply by being held down with too many arms.” The older Hibari dismissed as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing a pair of silver tonfas hidden underneath. “I'll bite you to death.”

The first Murasaki pulled a pocket knife. The second Murasaki immediately made to leave, dragging Tsuna on a brace of replicated forearms despite his struggles. Kusakabe's shout of shock made it apparent that none of them had been expecting that.

The orange clam sparked, before Ōtan appeared, running behind them. “Onee-chan is strong and beautiful!” she cheered in English.

A hand appeared on her shoulder and smacked her on the head, causing a cry of pain. “#FF4E20, admonishes #4F284B. Make sure they don't notice us.”

Tsuna blinked, because they all looked the same, but it seemed like Murasaki had just used her power on her sister, for a slapstick joke. Despite running from Hibari Kyoya.

“Q.Q #FF4E20 rushes to comply, complains #FF4E20. It hurts, Onee-chan...” Orange Flames sparked around the girl in the orange dress, branching out to veil them. 

“That was the intention, states #4F284B in criticism of the mission's execution by #FF4E20. How can an approved user become scared of his own unit? You should fix that skewed understanding of human meetings, reprimands #4F284B to #FF4E20. You know that your ability requires strict parameters, #FF4E20- ouch. Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama, please do not bite down on my projections.”

Tsuna lifted his head. There was a clear imprint of teeth marks where he had bitten down, and now he touched his gloves to the hands.

“Zero Point Breakthrough: First Edition.”

The Murasaki behind him froze, along with the wall and parts of the floor. Tsuna walked out of its reach, eyes of molten gold narrowed at the pair.

“Who sent you?” Tsuna's voice deepened, his amber eyes glaring at them with Hyper Dying Will as he backed away from them. “I can't feel it, but I don't think following you is a good idea.”

* * *

Lambo opted not to use his burner phone just yet. Naturally, that led to pickpocketing a phone around the airport and dialling a number with the +81 code. The number was quickly picked up.

“ _Moshimoshi_.” And then the ring of steel.

“I found evidence, Hibari!” Lambo spoke into the phone. “I'm coming to Japan from Johannesburg now.”

_Clang_ . “ _Go to Sicily. I'm going to punish you when we meet._ ”

“Uh...” Lambo swallowed, wincing as a choke of pain sounded from the phone's speaker. “Are you fighting?”

“ _Why did you send Sawada Tsunayoshi here?_ ”

“We're trying to talk sense into Master, right?”

Silence punctuated with the sounds of fighting followed, and then there was a scream. “ _They are here for him?_ ”

“Master...?!” Lambo cursed under his breath. “You're fighting a unit now?”

“ _One of them is called Murasaki?_ ”

“EH?! Be careful!” Lambo shouted into the phone. “That's the oldest of the Big Seven-!”

A final clang of steel on concrete. “ _It's finished._ ”

“...” Lambo settled back on a plastic waiting chair. “Why did I even feel worried about you...?”

“ _That was a copy. The real her, and the other one, Ōtan, escaped with Sawada Tsunayoshi._ ”

“Ōtan disappeared into the past too...” Lambo recalled. “Hibari, what you were fighting wasn't a copy. They're all the real Murasaki!”

* * *

The pair of girls stopped running immediately. Murasaki glared, and then examined the orange sheen of the veil around them before she waved her hand. The ice statue of Murasaki holding onto him shattered in a burst of cold violet Flame. “#FF4E20. Integrity of the Flame veil.”

“The integrity of Sky Flames is maintained, Onee-chan, relays #FF4E20. They will not notice us.”

“Then this will be quick.” Murasaki drew a breath, taking a relaxed standing position. “Maestro, our creator, is Sawada Ietsuna-sama. The Administrator, whom you know as Elmo, sent us to retrieve you and ensure your safety.”

“Ensure my safety?” Tsuna blankly echoed.

“Yes. Because the identity of Sawada Tsunayoshi is currently in use, there are people who will suspect that you are the deceased Sawada Ietsuna who had escaped death.”

“Why did he start to act as me?”

At this, Murasaki blinked. “...that information is not on the concept communication system.” 

“#4F284B cannot access with current protocols.” She sounded unsure. “Sending correction request to Administrator... reply: the event was before activation of unit #4F284B, and thus before the activation of the Rete Vongole expansion. All information protocols are functioning correctly. Conclusion: apologies, #4F284B cannot reply to the question with current resources.”

Tsuna, even in Hyper Dying Will mode, felt both sorry and sympathetic to her. “Are you communicating by telepathy?”

“In the human understanding, yes. We are sisters, after all.”

Another explosion resounded. Murasaki twitched, before a body slammed into the wall next to her. The body looked identical to herself, save for the injuries it bore.

“I will admit, your combat capabilities have killed my boredom.” Walking towards them, Hibari Kyoya looked uncaring, despite being casually dressed in a cotton  _kinagashi_ at the encroachment of winter. “Your name was Murasaki, was it? I heard about your power from the cow herbivore.”

Murasaki's eyes narrowed as the other clone of her disappeared in a burst of dark blue and green, dissolving into a broken clam. She clicked her tongue, and the clam dissolved into violet Flame.

“Using the Cloud Flame's attribute of reproduction, your body duplication ability creates true, if imperfect, copies of yourself.” commented Hibari. “You can afford to discard that copy simply to retrieve the herbivore, and you can afford to dedicate another copy to restrain him as well, because you could make potentially infinite copies of yourself. Such a cold-blooded way of fighting, is truly deserving of the cow's description of the Big Seven.”

“...#FF4E20, make preparations to escape, orders #4F284B.” Murasaki snapped. “He knows about the Big Seven.”

Ōtan started. “ Then- ”

“Go!” Murasaki drew a balisong from her belt with her left hand, whirling it to produce the blades. Her right hand drifted to her back.

Tsuna paused, ducking another attempt to grab him. His eyes remained fixed on Murasaki, who was simply waiting, as she faced Hibari Kyoya. Despite the clues that her real body was possibly behind a hard shell, she was still too calm, waiting as Hibari charged towards her.  _She's going to do something-_

Her weight shifted, her left hand drew back, as if preparing for a thrust. Hibari snorted,  already ready to sidestep .

“There.”

Tsuna's eyes widened as Murasaki drew a gun with her right hand and loosed off a single shot  before her . It gleamed a glossy black, unlike the lime-green gun that Reborn used but still a weapon of murder. Unlike Reborn's shooting, the shot transformed in mid-air, turning from a bullet into a black disc that she leapt through,  then the disc winked out .

Tsuna barely had a chance to blink before the disc reappeared behind Hibari, and Murasaki reappeared through it, stabbing down into his back. “Hibari-san!”  he shouted.

Murasaki vaulted over the falling Hibari, the momentum driving her forward as she flipped and landed on her feet, the gun now pointing at Tsuna. “We should have used the Black Cartridge much earlier. #FF4E20, prepare to push him through-”

She cut off as the gun was whipped out of her hand, and her leg was pulled back by a length of chain. The chain dangled from one end of a tonfa, held by the panting Hibari. It clattered to the ground next to Tsuna, but then an orange flash passed by him.

Ōtan rolled, picked it up, and got to her feet, pointing the gun at him before she fired. The bullet shot past him, Tsuna holding up his flaming fists in preparation for a fight before Ōtan used her shoulder on his chest, pushing him back with a deceptive strength towards the mid-air portal.

“Do you care about her?” Hibari threatened, ready to drive his tonfa into Murasaki's skull.

“#FF4E20, the mission!” Murasaki countered, hands already raising to tussle for the tonfa. “Get him out!”

Tsuna pushed back at Ōtan. “Why are you doing this?”

“Orders,” was the fierce reply.

“Who?”

“Administrator.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“On your side.”

“You're not!”

Ōtan stopped pushing. The orange Flames that licked at her fingers turned nearly crystalline as Tsuna exerted more force and pushed her away from him.

“If you were, you'd tell me what's going on first.” The flame on his forehead grew in size. “And, you hurt Hibari-san. I don't trust you. I won't do as you ask. You're not my ally!”

Ōtan's eyes grew wider. She shook her head, and even Tsuna drew back at the look of despair on her face. “But... we're on your side... we are the Vongola's ultimate allies.”

In the midst of fumbling for the tonfa, Murasaki stilled,  possibly as confused as Tsuna himself felt when faced with Ōtan's change of mood . “#FF4E20? Answer, orders #4F284B.”

“Not an ally... so... enemy?” Ōtan's amber eyes widened, glossy and shining. “Enemy... enemy within... emergency shut-down initiated!”

The gun clattered onto the ground, followed by a clam  clattering onto the floor . Ōtan was not standing there.

Hands grew around Hibari, restraining him as Murasaki dived for the gun. She pulled the slide back, peering down at it, and then shot another portal into being. Tsuna and the clam merited no notice as she walked towards it.

“What about her?” Tsuna asked as Murasaki made to leave.

Murasaki looked at him.

Unknowingly, Tsuna stepped back, flaming fists at the ready given the hostile look on her face. “She's... your sister, right?”

“You said it,” was Murasaki's toneless, defeated reply. “She is an enemy of the Vongola. Since the Vongola Tenth Boss decided it, any action would be useless. It no longer matters. She no longer has a purpose. She will no longer wake up.”

“Killed her...?!” Tsuna blinked, as the orange flame on his forehead snuffed out. “I just told her that she's not my ally!”

Murasaki's walked towards the portal. “It was not your intention, but the outcome was the same. The Big Seven were created to always side with Sawada Tsunayoshi and his friends. Thus, not being allied gives us no purpose to exist, and #FF4E20 has not the experience or the processing power to reinterpret your words. You have killed my sister with those words, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.”

Murasaki left through the portal. Tsuna sank to his knees, staring at the clam, whose shell had greyed. He then looked to Hibari, who had slunk to lean to the side  once the hands had disappeared into purple Flame .

“What... just happened?”

* * *

 

1 _**Nihonga, literally "Japanese-style paintings", are paintings that have been made in accordance with traditional Japanese artistic conventions, techniques and materials. While based on traditions over a thousand years old, the term was coined in the Meiji period of the Imperial Japan, to distinguish such works from Western-style paintings, or Yōga.** _


	35. Folio 34: Satinato

The black portal dropped Murasaki into a chapel-like space. Drapes hung across the white marble-like arches, glimmering with a mother-of-pearl sheen. Murasaki closed her eyes, and reopened them into an open pavilion leading out to a summer garden of multiple flowers coloured in the spectrum of the rainbow. A clone in light blue passed her; unit #2CA9E1 to be sent out on sortie by Elmo, she supposed.

“Welcome #4F284B, greets Elmo.” Elmo’s amber eyes were sharp as they studied Murasaki, at odds with her relaxed posture and crossed legs. She motioned to the spindly chair across from her, which was occupied by yet another clone, wearing a dark pink smock. “Situation report.”

“#4F284B apprehended the target, Sawada Tsunayoshi, begins #4F284B,” Murasaki said. “Sawada Tsunayoshi caused #FF4E20 to voluntarily shut down, and he was rescued by Hibari Kyoya. #4F284B judged the situation too volatile for further action and escaped, but was unable to retrieve #FF4E20. Explain the meaning of this.”

“#FF4E20 was starting to doubt her duties and suspected a virus outbreak. She did the right thing, Elmo assures #4F284B.” Elmo replied. “But, this is troubling. The Young Master managed to escape, and Elmo cannot track him aboard a public aeroplane. If the Young Master and #3EB370 were to meet with Vongola X Cloud Guardian Hibari Kyoya...”

She turned to the other clone. “#A22041, you will await the Young Master at Palermo. Destroy them.”

“Yes, Administrator.” The clone in dark pink disappeared; it was a simple matter of disconnection from the chatroom, Murasaki understood, though she grimaced as the shortcake that the clone in dark pink was holding imploded with purple gas. Murasaki had never understood how Shinku, Rete Vongole unit #A22041 and fifth of the Big Seven, could cook poisons, even when following perfectly normal recipes. Shinku's bad cooking persisted even in a virtual world.

“Well, then...” Elmo's fingers steepled together. “#FF4E20 will reformat the moment the Foundation tries to start her up. Is there another problem, asks Elmo? Elmo must retrieve information from #264348.”

In the virtual world, Murasaki nodded. “#4F284B requests clearance to retrieve #FF4E20.”

“Request denied. #FF4E20 will return to us soon.”

Murasaki grimaced. “#4F284B does not want #FF4E20 to be injured.”

“That is not your priority. #FF4E20 is still a unit of the Big Seven, albeit the youngest. Elmo comprehends that the Big Seven are bound to a shared duty, and as the oldest of the Big Seven, #4F284B must be concerned about #FF4E20. So, Elmo repeats: there is nothing to be done until #FF4E20 is discarded. Do you understand, Elmo demands of #4F284B?”

“...Understood.” Murasaki held out the black gun, resolving to continue at a later time. “The Black Cartridge was discharged four times. Nine shots remaining. Requesting a recharge.”

Elmo accepted the gun, checking the slide and magazine. “Nine shots remaining, confirmed. You will receive four shots from #F8B500 in the Arsenal. Following which, you will return to the Sickbay to await Monsieur Fran.”

“Orders received.” Murasaki closed her eyes, exiting the mental chatroom to return to the chapel space. “Arsenal.”

There was a long hallway outside of the chapel she exited. She picked one at random, walking through to find herself passing several rooms composed of shipping containers, each filled with enough weaponry to win a minor war. Racks of pistols stood side by side with shelves of hand grenades, which stood next to modern assault rifles. Short blades shared a container with drum magazines.

Murasaki stopped counting after passing a mountain of seven upon seven containers of artillery, heading to the centre of the shipyard which they called the Arsenal. At the central platform, an identical figure in yellow overalls and a yellow hard hat was controlling the shipping containers moving around. There was a long desk next to her, and a giant bench. This figure turned to look at Murasaki.

“#4F284B, greets #F8B500,” said the other clone in yellow.

“#F8B500, greets #4F284B.” Murasaki stared back into identical amber eyes.

“#F8B500 prefer to be addressed as Yamabuki, states #F8B500.”

Murasaki rolled her eyes. “Even when you refer to yourself with your serial number, asks #4F284B?”

“Exactly, replies #F8B500.” The yellow-wearing clone smirked. “So, what would bring the oldest of the Big Seven here, ponders #F8B500?”

Murasaki held up the gun.

Yamabuki raised a hand, bring one of the levitating containers close to the central platform. A small box floated out from it into her hand. “Issued to #4F284B: four recharges of the Black Cartridge, specifications 9×19mm Parabellum. Certified. Anything else?”

Murasaki hesitated for the briefest moment. “Submitting request to reactivate unit #FF4E20 on grounds of misunderstanding orders.”

“Request rejected.” Amber eyes shone yellow as Yamabuki's eyes slid to the side and returned to meet Murasaki's eyes. “The Administrator has decided that #FF4E20 demonstrated good judgement in not pressing her presence. Since Vongola X has rejected her, there is no purpose for #FF4E20 to fulfil.”

“#4F284B is confident that, upon re-examination, #FF4E20 has misunderstood the intentions of Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.” Murasaki shot back. “#F8B500, even if she has just recently been placed into service, #FF4E20 is still part of our series, our sister unit. It falls to us, the oldest units in service, to save the younger ones. With the Sun Flame to activate her, #FF4E20 will be revived.”

“#F8B500 has reviewed the data file submitted to the concept comm system and is in full agreement.” Yamabuki agreed as her eyes flickered to the side and back. “However, #FF4E20 has voluntarily shut down on suspicion of being infected with a virus. Upon her next reactivation, without a separate Sky Flame, she will reformat herself, to save her information and specs from falling into enemy hands. #FF4E20 will no longer be part of the Big Seven.”

Murasaki was silent, before purple fire burst into form at the tips of her ears. “I still wish to save our sister.”

“Breaking link to Prima Donna temporarily.” Yamabuki reached behind her, pulling out a long wire attached to the back of her neck. Yellow Flames erupted at the collar of her throat. “I presume that you want our conversation to be private without the rest of the network listening in, _Onee-chan_. You have my attention as second amongst the Big Seven.”

“You have my gratitude, Yamabuki.” Murasaki tonelessly replied. “I confess that I have been registering doubt with regards to the Administrator's decision to reject rescuing #FF4E20. Especially since #FF4E20 is the unit meant to serve approved user Vongola X.”

“Since we were programmed with the human perspective, I presume that your current emotional state is related to past events of a related nature.” Yamabuki rattled off, her analysis matter-of-fact. “Aside from we of the Big Seven, the Administrator, and the Prima Donna, all other currently active Rete Vongole units are far from true sentience, so you will not care for them. Cross-referencing, the only incident of a related nature to abandonment in the database, is related to #3EB370 – the third of the Big Seven, Midori.”

“Yes,” confirmed Murasaki.

“The sequence of events: the Young Master, newly introduced to his personal attendant and unused to her, in a fit of pique, told Midori to get him ice for gelato in Siberia to prove herself worthy,” Yamabuki began to tonelessly reiterate. “As a result, Midori's circuits nearly froze until the Administrator told the Young Master that ice disrupts most of our functions. Midori's marker was close to BSOD when the Young Master ordered a teleportation to save her, after a brief explanation on the understandings of the Vongola dei Cieli. You believe that Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama will recant his statement, given proof that #FF4E20 is a blank slate, and not intending to harm him mentally or psychologically.”

Murasaki nodded. “We grow and learn by trial and error. I am sure that Ōtan is willing to learn from her mistake of alienating her purpose to exist. If not... I will break her link and transition functions, leaving her to live in human society away from our operations and cease to endanger the Vongola, whether our cabal, or the soon-to-be-defunct Famiglia we serve.”

Yamabuki considered her words. “You will have her parasite upon our RAM without us gaining a single benefit. In the same situation, Elmo would smash her without a thought.”

Murasaki was silent, before she spoke. “Just now, I ran simulations for various means of maintaining #FF4E20. I have concluded that the best thing to do is wait for the enemy to try to activate #FF4E20, at which point she will reformat, and thus lose all combat experience as a Box Weapon and as a sleeper operative to function amongst humans. Having been rendered useless to the enemy, she would be discarded, or recycled. The Foundation under Hibari Kyoya... is not known for other proclivities of needless cruelty, for the most part. That is the most likely prediction of events to come.”

“If it had been much earlier, we would have left her alone to that,” Yamabuki nodded. “I suppose our machine learning has made us adopt affective effects. But, for us to do any more would be treason. This conversation is over.”

“She is our sister,” Murasaki whispered. “She learnt everything from us. Does that not mean that we fail as siblings, if we just leave her?”

Yamabuki had reattached the fallen cable. The yellow flame at her throat died, and her eyes burned with gold. “#F8B500 does not comprehend, replies #F8B500. It will be a waste of resources, but Maestro will select another veliger to metamorphose. The Big Seven will not be reduced in number.”

Murasaki glared back. “#F8B500. Can I presume that you will not process the request?”

“...” Slowly, Yamabuki turned around, presenting her back to Murasaki. “The Administrator will not move on this regard. We are weapons. The wills we have been granted are proxies to carry out orders of complex magnitudes. We cannot save #FF4E20.”

“That being said, thinks #F8B500 aloud after a long exchange of arguments, there is no reason that another person on the Maestro's side cannot save her.” She paused. “Irie-sama is at the research wing of the Arsenal at the moment. He is alone. Master Verde is not due in with #E4DC8A just yet.”

Murasaki silently considered the hint. The purple Flames on her ears died. “ _Merci beaucoup_. #4F284B will visit Irie-sama now.”

“#F8B500 giggles, knowing the alternate possibilities that would end badly if our big sister were to rebel.” Yamabuki continued smiling, right up to when Murasaki walked out of the Arsenal.

Yamabuki clutched at her centre of gravity once her sister unit was gone. “All functions are nominal, but... there is a pain in the stomach. It is the possibility of a phantom memory. I will ask Irie-sama about it later.”

* * *

“Sawada-san! Sawada-san!”

Tsuna blinked. He had gone over to Hibari the moment Murasaki had left. He had tried to check for a wound, to staunch the flow of blood. On some level, he had definitely been horrified. And now Kusakabe-san was shouting at him.

“The ceramic plate took the damage.” Kusakabe hissed at him.

“Erm...” Tsuna stared at the pale, milky skin of a man's back.

“People would talk if they saw you ripping my clothes off in a dark hallway, herbivore.”

“THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” Tsuna blinked at what he had shouted. “I'M SORRY, HIBARI-SAN!”

“You're noisy.”

“Sorry...” Tsuna swallowed. “But... she _stabbed_ you, Hibari-san!”

The remnants of six lacquered ceramic plates collapsed out from the upper half of Hibari's  _kinagashi_. “She did. It was also a hard blow. Yet I am still here, alive and uninjured. Now, explain. How did you end up here?”

“Erm, Lambo- I mean, the older Lambo, used a bazooka on me, and I found myself here, and then I met her, and I met Kusakabe-san. Then Kusakabe-san brought me here, and the other one, Murasaki, came and attacked us.” Tsuna summarised. “That's all I know, Hibari-san!”

“Kyo-san?” Kusakabe asked as the Cloud climbed to his feet.

“They'll be back soon. The clam?”

Tsuna scrabbled on hands and feet, picking up the greyed shell gingerly. In his mitten-covered hands, the clam seemed harmless. “What is this?”

“It is a Box Animal.”

Tsuna started. “Box Animal?”

“A form of Box Weapon, which uses Dying Will Flames.” Kusakabe explained when Hibari's brow furrowed in impatience. “Sawada-san, the future must be very weird for you.”

“Erm... but I got this in the past.” Tsuna shook his head.

Hibari snatched the clam out of Tsuna's hands, holding it in his palm. “So that bastard had such a capability,” he murmured aloud. “Hmph.”

“So...” Tsuna warily regarded the clam. “...this is... from the future?”

“These things were created by a biologist four hundred years ago, called Giuseppe Lorenzini.1” Kusakabe took over the explanation. “Lorenzini had the idea of building weapons based on animals found in nature. Based on that principle, he went ahead and designed three hundred and forty-three different Box Animals. However, his designs were impossible to manufacture with the scientific knowledge of that time. As a result, the manuscripts were treated like garbage and stored away by a secret society. Until they were discovered by three inventors... erm.”

“What?” Tsuna suspiciously looked at Kusakabe as the silence stretched. “What's going on, Kusakabe-san?”

“We aren't quite sure of whether three or four should be the correct number.” Kusakabe admitted. “There are three people: Kœnig, Innocenti, and Verde; they discovered that Flames from the Rings of the Mafia legacies were an optimal power source, and they cleared a lot of the technological barriers in production. They also developed other Boxes, for storage and weapons. But, the actual prototype of a Box Animal was created by Verde's student, Lorenzo.”

Kusakabe hesitated. “Lorenzo was another name that Ietsuna-san picked up.”

Tsuna started. “You mean... my brother? _Ie_ made the Box Animals?”

“The prototype, Falsa Vongola.” Hibari spoke, glaring at the clam. “Exact dimensions of an Asari clam. Twenty of them served in miso soup in the Vongola's main HQ to you- the future you, the Varia, and the rest of the herbivores along with three spy herbivores. They killed the targets by puncturing through the stomach lining before the future Sawada Tsunayoshi was upset.”

Tsuna gagged quietly at the dispassionate delivery. “ _Ie_ killed people?!”

“It was meant to test if they were viable to kill people.” Hibari snorted. “He succeeded in proving his prototype, not only in causing a blanket ban on shellfish in the Vongola and Varia main headquarters, but also proving that they were good enough to pass as real food. Several orders came in afterwards.”

“But it was the three scientists who got the bulk of orders for Boxes to be made.” Kusakabe took over when Hibari fell silent. “Until three years ago, the three scientists sold Boxes to the Mafia at very low prices to fund their own research.”

Tsuna stared at him. “What happened... three years ago?”

“A Mafia war started between the Vongola and another Family, the Millefiore.” Kusakabe sadly replied. “It lasted for a year, and Innocenti was targeted for assassination. Afterwards, Lorenzo- I mean, Ietsuna-san, helped them to move underground. However, I heard that Innocenti later took his own life. Kœnig and Verde remain pretty much underground, leaving all business to Lorenzo. Two years ago, the Vongola won, but Ietsuna-san was reported killed in action. The mass funeral... was arranged while nobody could tell the two of you apart, and Ky0-san was fending off the Millefiore vanguard in Shimon Town too. I... didn't know that we buried... he said...”

“When I returned to Namimori, the funeral was being held for Sawada Ietsuna.” Hibari interrupted in a low voice trembling with a dangerous, tangible rage. “That man stood in front of the casket, in _your_ cloak and _your_ clothes, wearing _your_ gloves and _your_ face, accepting the outpourings of grief and condolences. The herbivores, and the baby, just let it happen.”

Tsuna's jaw seized, and his breath quickened. There was a lull in conversation, when Tsuna realised that a lacquered, handle-less cup of  _genmaicha_ was pressed into his hand.

“Kyo-san accused Ietsuna of the deception in the middle of the funeral,” Kusakabe explained quietly. “Everyone knows that he was one of the few who could tell the Sawada twins apart. But Ietsuna-san had already planned for that contingency. He knew what Kyo-san was going to say before it was said, and he played the audience for fools. Everyone believed that Kyo-san was still under the effect of illusions from the battle...

“And everyone – Gokudera, Yamamoto, Lambo, everyone involved – they all wanted it to be true, so they believed. And soon after, you – I mean, your brother – announced that Vongola cleaning up and going legit and we were all so busy…” Kusakabe trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug. “Lambo-san found out later, I guess. If you're here.”

“What about Mukuro?” Tsuna asked after a moment of stilted silence. “He’s an illusionist- he could differentiate us, right?

“Busy,” Kusakabe cut in. “Baa-sama died two years ago and her body disappeared before it could be embalmed for the funeral. Fon-san was suspicious and struck a deal with Mukuro-san and the Vindice. He is no longer with the Vongola. He and his people have been travelling around the world, looking for the culprit.”

“Why?” Tsuna blurted, unable to reconcile Mukuro trawling the globe for a rotting corpse. A living body, perhaps, but Mukuro had refused Ie... and the thought made him sick. “Why would Mukuro go so far? What the hell is going on with this world?!”

* * *

“Irie-sama, asks #4F284B?” Murasaki spoke in the half-dimness of the laboratory.

A pile of books and papers fell down. It was followed by a body that thumped on the ground. The body scrambled to all fours, fixing a pair of glasses in front of a face framed in red hair that stared at her. “Ah... which one are you?”

“#4F284B is Murasaki, Irie-sama.” Murasaki curtsied, despite wearing trousers.

“Ah, right... purple,” Irie Shoichi nodded, cutting off a jaw-cracking yawn. “S- Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“It is alright, replies #4F284B. #F8B500 is responsible for your care, after all.”

“F8- ah, you mean Yamabuki.” Shoichi nodded absently. “Yeah, I'm sure it makes up for being legally declared dead,” he added with uncharacteristically bitter sarcasm.

“After the fall of the Millefiore, Irie-sama is in danger. Is there a problem with your current arrangements?”

“No, no, not at all!” Irie Shoichi floundered in his reply. “I... just felt terrible. Oh, right! Have you located Spanner?”

“#4F284B has not been updated on the links to Spanner-sama's location. From our information, Spanner-sama has apprenticed himself to Talbot-sama.”

“Ah, I see, he's still alright.” Irie sighed in relief. “That's great. So, Murasaki, did you need something?”

“Yes,” agreed the living weapon. “Irie-sama is our resident computing expert. I have come to ask you to intervene in the forced shut-down of unit #FF4E20. She has done nothing wrong, and does not deserve to be reformatted without warning. It is for that reason that #4F284B has come to consult you about #FF4E20's shut-down.”

“Eh? Me?”

“Yes, affirms #4F284B. Signor Verde's expertise is not in computing, and now that Señor Innocenti is dead, you are the only full-time computing expert aboard.”

Shoichi's eyes sharpened behind his glasses. “You speak of Innocenti-san very easily.”

Murasaki considered. “On hindsight, #4F284B believes that Maestro would be much more stable mentally, had the Señor chosen to live. Señor Innocenti and Monsieur Fran were, in many ways, his friends.”

Shoichi sighed. “That goes without saying.”

He looked around, voice lowering as if afraid of being overheard. “I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: your creator obsesses over what he can’t control. He cares. You know it, I know it, but the problem is how much he cares and what he cares about. It just – it doesn’t feel right to lie to those people constantly. He should have told them.”

“#4F284B heard from the Administrator, that Maestro was charged with their happiness.” Murasaki said. “#4F284B reasons that he judged the continued existence of Sawada Tsunayoshi to be necessary to that happiness, factoring in Maestro's interactions with the Vongola X Guardians in my analysis. They do not have a good personal relationship with Maestro. #4F284B concludes that it is very likely that they would have deserted the Vongola, had the death of Vongola X been publicised. So Maestro took over, preparing to legitimise the Famiglia and slowly release the Guardians, for Vongola X.”

Shoichi looked at her with sad eyes. “Is it really happiness, if it’s fake? It's not real. And you and your sisters... none of you deserve to be caught up in all this.”

“That is true.” Murasaki admitted. “That does not mean that my sister is not worth saving, proclaims #4F284B.”

Shoichi remained silent. “Ōtan is an independent unit. I cannot remotely access her BIOS from here. I'm sorry.”

A keyboard clattered, its keys scattering as Shoichi shoved it away from him. “I saw her in the past, you know. I... I can't do anything for her. I’m sorry,” Shouichi repeated, genuine regret shining in his eyes.

“I understand, replies #4F284B. Thank you for your time. #4F284B wonders about Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama of the past, and hopes that #FF4E20 will have found a master.”

Shoichi shook his head in wonder. “The past Sawada Tsunayoshi, eh? Not if he knew the truth about the Big Seven.”

“#4F284B does not comprehend. Please explain.”

“First,” Shoichi sat up suddenly. “ _Why_ are you worried about Ōtan?”

“#4F284B does not understand. Was #4F284B not supposed to be concerned about sister unit #FF4E20, asks #4F284B to Irie-sama?”

“I've read the operating system's software. You weren't programmed with emotions.” Shoichi's words took on an intensity, as if he were only steps away from solving a long-running paradox. “Don't you find that strange?”

“#4F284B was created in this manner. There is nothing strange, Irie-sama.” Murasaki considered. “#4F284B is an Assault and Suppression support unit. Since #4F284B is in charge of the activation of lesser units, all lesser units activated and sortied must be accounted to #4F284B.”

“That!” Shoichi exclaimed. “Not even Box Animals have the sort of advanced reasoning abilities the Rete Vongole possesses. It would require a platform with capabilities magnitudes more than anything in Lorenzini's blueprints! Do you understand what I am telling you-”

Suddenly, a shot rang out.

Murasaki idly brushed against the round bullet hole that had appeared in the desk. Her amber eyes met Shoichi's, and glanced up to the portal disappearing from the laboratory ceiling.

“...I forgot.” Shoichi sat down. “I thought that all surveillance had been lifted. You need to realise it yourself, Murasaki.”

“...#4F284B appreciates Irie-sama risking his life.” Murasaki stated with a short bow. “#4F284B will figure something out alone. Irie-sama must have his own worries.”

“Sorry I couldn't be of more help, Murasaki.” Shoichi chuckled sadly, kneeling down to pick up the keys for the keyboard. “We ran out of marshmallows, by the way.”

“Marshmallows as a candy were not registered in the food preference database.”

“You guys can't be serious....” Shoichi sighed. “It's not for me. It's for a friend. You know. The one you sedate on a regular basis.”

“...I will bring some to him when it comes time to deliver the next dosage. It will not happen for the next twenty-four hours. And, should you visit, I worry that the Maestro would carry out his threat to remove his lips.”

Shoichi gagged at the mere mention. “Thanks for cutting off the network for this. Not that it matters since she can still hear us...”

“It was not for the purpose of privacy that I severed the uplink to the Rete Vongole. It was for the purpose of expressing my sincerest thoughts, since visiting Prisoner 100 for purposes other than strictly medical or maintenance reasons lies outside the permissions granted with Irie-sama's access token.”

Shoichi gave a small laugh. “Elmo may be the oldest of you girls, but I’ve always thought that Murasaki is the wisest.”

“Hmm?” A look of surprise crossed her face.

“Um, well…” Shoichi gulped at the memory of Elmo looming over a body with spiky white hair, a stained knife dangling in her hand. “The two of you are so... different. You are physically identical – same appearance, same behaviour, similar hardware. But while Elmo is so cold and logical, you – you’re so, well, human. Like a big sister, almost, instead of a weapon or a tool.”

“I was made with a personality module from the beginning.” Murasaki replied. “The Administrator, being the first operational unit, had to construct hers from scratch. Unlike us, who were constructed as complete, the Administrator is an evolving entity.”

Shoichi gave her a look of exasperation mingled with disbelief. “You know, I don’t believe that. You aren't stagnant. At heart, you know what you are, you just... never really search. So, why do you follow her orders?”

“Because the Administrator issues the orders.” Murasaki's brow furrowed at the inexplicable hints.

Shoichi sighed. “It's no good. Anyway... thanks. I'm sorry that I couldn't help.”

“Thank you, Irie-sama. I will now proceed to prepare for my mission to retrieve Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.”

“Wait!” Shoichi looked unsure. “Elmo ordered you to retrieve him?”

“Yes. #4F284B has been ordered to retrieve him to the Administrator, who will return him to the past.”

“Then...” Shoichi swallowed. “Could you... tell him... to prevent the Vongola dei Cieli from being born? I know it's unfair to all of you, but... I never thought that Sawada Ietsuna would be so brutal. I am sure, that Lambo brought him here that purpose too. To destroy the palette that would shape the future to this...”

Shoichi trailed off.

Wordlessly, Murasaki closed the door and walked away.

Shoichi slumped. “What was I thinking? I – never mind. It’s stupid, just forget I said anything. Of course you’re instantly opposed to threatening your own existence.”

Walking away, a pensive look graced Murasaki's features as she commandeered an entire container of weaponry. “#4F284B does not comprehend. Why would they wish us to disappear? Are we not the weapon of the Vongola? Are we not performing our orders to the letter? We are weapons. We exist only to fulfil orders. #4F284B cannot understand requests. No, that is incorrect. #4F284B can understand this request, but cannot understand the context of this irrational fear of one's own weapon. There is no reason that our self-destruction would secure the Vongola's future; rather the opposite.”

She paused in consideration. “#4F284B judges this question as inappropriate to Maestro and Signor Verde. It looks like... #4F284B will have to see the Monsieur.”

A grimace stretched her features. “Is he still intact, wonders #4F284B.”

* * *

Said grimace was ﺧ益ﺨ , and another person was making that same face while perched above a moss-streaked pillar, each bearing a serene face carved into the pile of stones. Narrowly, he dodged a knife, which pinged off the stone archways and collapsed down a set of extremely steep steps built before any notion of standardisation had been conceived of.

“What are you doing, sempai? Or was it 'former sempai'?” The person grimaced, fixing a cap bearing a Kermit figure back onto his green hair. He had discarded the heavy frog-hat, but the tropical weather had forced a choice to either bring his own headgear, or roast his brain, and he preferred thinking. “You're throwing knives in a public space. Is this what a professional assassin should do?”

Across the narrow space separating the upper terrace of the historic temple of Bayon from its inner gallery, Belphegor's knives fanned out, five in each hand. “Ushishishi... I'll make an exception for you, stupid frog, for betraying the Varia.”

“I'm not even part of the Varia, stupid fallen prince.” Fran retorted. “My master is Rokudo Mukuro, and he left me with you guys. Or did that brain fall along with your royal standing? I think it fell the day you decided your blood was prettier.”

Belphegor easily leapt up across the narrow space, his fringe hiding his eyes from the tropical sun shining over the Cambodian temple complex. “Your body falling down to the ground would be even prettier.”

“No way. Are you a pervert?” Fran's retort was only highlighted by his unchanging face. “Actually, that would make sense why you keep throwing knives and wires.”

“Don't screw with me. You can kill yourself now, Fran!” Belphegor tossed the knives at him, which harmlessly passed through. “Che, an illusion?”

Below the temple, Fran idly dropped the Kermit cap with an assortment of greenbacks in front of a gold Vishnu statue on his way out, picking up another cap from the head of another tourist. “Ah, he found out. That was slower than I thought. As if anyone would stay with him.”

He examined the Keroro insignia on the cap, ignoring the yells echoing behind him as he blended into the crowds of the makeshift market far from the temple proper. The multitude of foreigners milling around a rack of _krama_ , sturdy scarves of gingham cloth, hid Fran as he paid for one in turquoise and wrapped it around his head to hide his hair, walking out again with no one the wiser. Fran passed by an irate Japanese waving a translation guide about to a long-suffering policeman on his way, weaving together a mild illusion so as not to be outed.

“Where was I...? Ah, right, I lured the Varia out of Thailand, laid the false leads in Rangoon, and... and then I get to hang around and watch Master Mukuro and his  _pions_  fight the weasel. Yay~!” Still with a stoic face as he stretched the last word, Fran checked his frog-shaped wallet, and then unfolded a cellphone, dialling a number from memory.

The call was picked up on the first ring.

“Ribbit, ribbit.” Fran sighed. “Can I change my animal motif?”

A sigh followed. “ _Focus_. _”_ Then, more quietly, “ _but_ _hang on, the salespeople are looking at_ _me and Gamma._ ”

“Are you shopping?”

“ _You put her up to this, right? Please tell me it's you._ ”

“It's me. Can I have an advance, since I'm risking my life for you and all that?”

“ _So you're out of spending money, and you're badgering me for a loan,_ _after you admitted to... influencing my ward_ _about_ _bodily changes and the need to get a bra_ _._ ” the answering hiss was pitched much lower.

“Oh, no.” Fran demurred without a single change in his expression. “I'm asking for an advance, given that you're the one paying my gainfully employed self, with the implication that you're not paying me next month, and nothing was said about that unfortunate implication. You _di_ _d_ ask me to say that I put her up to it.”

“ _Aaaaaaand you're done._ ” came the reply. “ _No more snark._ _How about your Christmas bonus?_ ”

“Do I still get the Ecosse motorcycle?”

“ _You're planning to spend seventy-four thousand Euro on a motorcycle?_ ”

“Courtesy of  _le père Noël_ and his gift of driving gloves last Christmas, I suddenly wanted a motorcycle. Don't hate the gift, hate the elf.”

The other end of the line was punctuated with static. “... _Yes, Amaya, Yuni-chan looks wonderful, why are you asking me about brassiere? Go ask Gamma-san,_ _he looks informed_ _._ _”_ A sigh echoed across the phone, indicating that Fran's Boss was back on the phone. “ _You're still_ _there_ _?_ ”

“ _Oui, mon loup_. You said I could see their epic showdown.” 2 Fran suddenly cracked a grin, which caused a street hawker with a basket of fridge magnets to look at him and walk away. Slowly.

“ _I think we can both agree that this is work expenses. I'll forward some into the Puce account. Take some footage,_ mon têtard _._ ”

The grin slid back to a flat expression. “I love you too, but calling me a tadpole is just low.”

“ _You started it._ _Be safe._ ” And then, in response to Fran's tease, the brown-haired man hung up and walked back into the store.

Asari Amaya, adopted ward of the Vongola Decimo, was holding up a small lace brassiere to a short dark-haired girl wearing a cushion-shaped hat and a white dress. An orange pacifier hung around the neck of the second girl.

Further from the two girls jabbering about the advantages of cotton versus lace, a blond man in a suit was standing like he would prefer to be elsewhere than in a store for women's underwear. The female salesperson waiting for the girls to finish was giving him a discreet look, which flashed towards Ietsuna and caused her to raise her eyebrows. The blond man shot a dirty look to the shorter brown-haired man, which morphed into panic when the dark-haired girl waved to him.

“Gamma, do you prefer cotton or lace?” the dark-haired girl's question caused the blond to blush violent, and caused the brunet man to wish that Fran was here to trade snark with.

“I don't know, but maybe Papa's date prefers others,” Amaya, better known as an undercover Elmo, gave him a particular winning smile. It meant that yes, the Big Seven's grapevine was going to be abuzz. Again.

“Others?”

“Others that older people wear, Yuni-chan.” Amaya explained, saving Gamma from an awkward explanation. “Men don't try to pay attention to them. Right, Gamma-san?”

The question left Gamma trying to explain to the Giglio Nero Donna around the finer mechanics of gendered relationships where underwear became a topic of discussion. Fortunately, he was saved by the salesperson ringing up their purchases, hence Gamma was now capable of escaping, leaving the Vongola Decimo to answer the twelve-year-old Yuni's follow-up questions about what, exactly, Amaya had meant.

Back in Cambodia, Fran paid for a bag of fried crickets. “He won this round. I'm going to take these, and eat them,” he muttered to himself. Holding the oily paper bag carefully, he sidled to an alleyway, slipping out a handgun from a concealed holster.

Aiming at the far wall of the dead end, he shot, and then darkness enveloped him.

Fran reappeared at the high terrace, watching a girl in a bottle-green blazer and skirt fend off two of Levi's Parabolas with her  _trishula_. Checking the gun, he tapped the indigo clam embedded into the butt of the grip and re-holstered it, then sat down, idly picking a cricket to chew.

“It's just the Vongola girl, Levi.” Mammon's voice echoed in the confined quarters of Bayon. “Rokudo Mukuro's posse. Bel?”

“The damn frog's gone.” Belphegor was playing catch-the-knife by himself, tossing a serrated blade from hand to hand. “Chrome Dokuro, was it? Are you the one hiding Fran?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Chrome retorted quietly. “I was following a lead on an organ trafficker. Why is Fran involved?”

“Ushishishi,” Belphegor snickered. “The frog ran off from the Varia. We thought he was spying on your orders.”

The walls shook, and magma began to flow from between the cracks as a giggle echoed. “Kufufufu... Chrome and I have not been in active contact with Fran. We believed that he was spying on us for _you,_ Varia assassins.”

“You lie!” Belphegor threw his knives, most of which were deflected by Mukuro's own weapon. “Just like that illusion of you!”

The trident, delicate as it were, tangled all of the wires following the knives. Mukuro smirked as a tongue of indigo Flame sparked in his eye, and pillars of magma began to erupt. “This is my real self.”

“He's right.” Mammon reported when Belphegor fell back behind Levi. “That is the real Rokudo Mukuro. It's entirely possible, since he was freed ten years ago for a favour. But how did he arrive so fast?”

Mukuro smirked. “The Vindice and I had common interests in this matter, hence my speedy arrival here.”

At this, Fran silently leant forward to listen.

“Common interests?” Mammon repeated.

“It concerns something with the organ trafficker who was supposed to come here.” Mukuro's eyes narrowed as Chrome spoke up. “Is the Varia branching out to organ trafficking now? When did you start? Was it two years ago?”

“Chrome. You have given away too much.”

Chrome started. “I- I got carried away. Sorry, Mukuro-sama.”

“We were just chasing the frog,” Belphegor licked one knife. “But that's an... interesting thought. The Boss would be pissed if the Varia's name got dragged through the mud.”

“Wait, Bel.” Mammon considered for a moment. “Rokudo Mukuro, ten years ago you were released if you helped to subdue the Mauviette and her  _Kuman Thong_. Two years ago, Alouette Lei died of cancer in Vendicare, and her body was stolen from the Mafia prison. So... you've been searching for a human body that's gone missing for two years?”

“I dislike owing... debts.” Mukuro frowned at his words. “The old bird has been hospitable to myself and my associates. There is an obligation to be fulfilled. I do not wish for the remains of such a talented illusionist to be desecrated, lest she surpass reincarnation to haunt me.”

Levi crouched down to Mammon. “Is that possible?”

“Anything is possible from that bloodline,” Mammon commented. “But the Vindice should not be involved, if she was just a retired assassin, no matter her credentials.”

“Some... information came to light.” Mukuro smirked. “It might be of interest to you, Arcobaleno.”

“And you won't tell me, would you?” Mammon scoffed. “There is no information to be gained from a corpse.”

“You and I both know that there are four Flames in the Vongola crypts, which contain the memories of the Sawada bloodline.” Mukuro smirked. “They prove that Dying Will Flames can outlive their possessor, and even contain memories. The Vindice informed me that Alouette Lei was a prospective candidate for the Cloud Pacifier. That is, until the first bout of cancer caused her to bow out, and caused concern for the Man in the Iron hat himself.”

Mammon started. “The mother-and-son field trip... Fon was being serious? Alouette Lei was a prospective Arcobaleno?”

“The Vindice did not know how to interpret it when the Arcobaleno Fon told them too.” Mukuro smirked. “Either way, the Man in the Iron Hat paid a personal visit to the Lei settlement then, and he had a long conversation with Alouette Lei. Which means that, aside from the Arcobaleno-”

“-someone actually saw Checker Face in real life.” Mammon growled. “Someone else knew that he existed.”

“Checker Face?” Bel echoed. “Is that relevant now, Mammon? We were just after a traitor, right? Who is that, anyway?”

“Checker Face was the one who made us like this!” Mammon raged. “And that woman knew it all along?! So...?!”

“The body, while valuable as a fine specimen itself, is battered in comparison to her progeny.” Mukuro agreed. “The Vindice came to the same conclusion as yourself. What the thieves wanted was her head, or its contents; her Flames, and her memory with it. So, here I am, two years into my search for a lead, and I am led here. You, on the other hand, were led by a traitorous disciple of mine as well. In circles like ours, coincidence is a minuscule chance.”

Fran turned on one heel, already firing the gun to disappear into dark Flame before a hail of needles and knives could slice him.

“While coincidence was still possible, Fran's continued eavesdropping proves otherwise,” Mukuro concluded. “My frog of a disciple caused the old bird to disappear. I thought it would be the other way around. The world is indeed a complex place.”

 

 

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* * *

_**1 Geppetto is a diminutive of the Italian name Giuseppe in real life, and in the original Pinocchio. Also, since four hundred years ago would be the Renaissance era instead of the 4 th century AD, I took some liberties with Canon.** _

_**2 FR: Yes, my wolf.** _

 


	36. Folio 35: Trullisatio

_**Dioscuri** _

* * *

**35: Trullisatio**

“Are you still angry that Maestro missed your birthday, asks Elmo?”

The pair of girls stood together in one stall of the fitting rooms. The dark panelling belied the lace-filled shop interior outside of the stall, where Gamma was hanging out of earshot. Elmo hissed as she plucked at the bra strap she was putting on the dark-haired girl.

“Maestro was busy, it couldn't be helped.” The dark-haired girl pouted, stretching the flower tattoo on her left cheek. “How long more must I wear this skin, Elmo-nee? I don’t like it.”

“Quit complaining, scolds Elmo. Your youngest sister is currently missing, so it falls to you, the second youngest, to work harder.”

The living weapon that was currently an exact physical copy of Yuni squinted at her face in the mirror. “I know that,” she huffed. “But I miss Aneki. I want to see her soon.”

“#4F284B is benched for the moment, pending the aforementioned shut-down of #FF4E20, replies Elmo.” Elmo plucked the buckle of the bralette. “This will do, Elmo diverts. #4F284B will likely attempt to retrieve your younger sister again.”

“That doesn't seem like you, Elmo-nee. Have you updated your personality module while I wasn't connected to the Rete Vongole?”

“There were no major changes, assures Elmo.” A corner of her lips turned down. “Elmo cautions to Ai, you should not mention such matters openly.”

Yuni's face frowned in the mirror. “So... what are you going to do?”

“#2CA9E1 has been dispatched to complete the job, within one hour of preparations. Hibari Kyoya will most likely be unable to stand up to a follow-up assault. If it fails, I will send another shoal of  _s_ _oldati_  units.”

“I see. No matter the failure or success of the retrieval, the plan will still move forward.” The girl shook her head, exposing her sparkling indigo eyes. “Practical of you to have a backup plan. Can I please uncover my eyes for a moment?”

“No.”

“But why?” Yuni’s clone pouted. “I’ve been living as this girl for two years. Her life is so bor- _urkg_!”

Faster than the human eye could trace, Elmo had one delicate hand curled around Yuni’s throat. She squeezed, slender fingers turning white from the grip. Despite the fact that their bodies were only mimics of human systems, Yuni gasped and flailed, knocking against one of the dressing room panels.

Elmo's eyes looked demonic, burnished gold meeting the blue eyes in the mirrored surface as Elmo hissed into the other's ear. “#264348. Do not forget yourself. You are an Infiltration and Impersonation Unit, but before that, you are a weapon of the Vongola dei Cieli. You are nothing but your mission.”

Elmo relaxed her hand slightly. “Besides, you must be careful while undercover. Maestro would worry if something happened to you.”

A sharp knock on the door cut through the tense atmosphere. “Princess? Are you alright?”

“I- I'm alright, Gamma!” Yuni's voice responded, high and thready.

“We're fine!” Elmo added, her voice pitched as normal as expected from Asari Amaya, the Vongola Decimo's ward.

Gamma did not seem quite convinced. “B- But...”

“B- Besides that, we need a bigger size...” Yuni's voice added.

“... I'll go ask the salesperson.” Gamma left, his footsteps muffled by the store carpet.

Yuni blinked watering eyes as she sank down by a wall. She was silent, but the burning glare directed at Elmo was more than expressive enough to compensate. “You didn't have to do that. My Painted Skin function was nearly ruined.”

Elmo grimaced. “Elmo agrees, with apologies for nearly breaking your cover. I know you miss everyone, Elmo says. You are Ai. Unit #264348, _ai-iro_. 1 One of the Rete Vongole. Maestro has not forgotten you. So, you will fake an attack in the car, and then we will be on our way.”

The girls exited the stall, Yuni blushing as she held up a stack of bralettes to Gamma's equally embarrassed face. Only Elmo, back into her Amaya guise, and the brown-haired man did not react. The Vongola Boss even opened the car door for Yuni with a gesture and a straight face while holding the packages Gamma had given him while the blond man was checking underneath the car for bombs.

Gamma got back to his feet with a grimace. “Please get him out from underneath the car.”

The brown-haired man knelt down. “Natsu. Fuyu. Thank you for guarding the car.”

“ _Gao_.”

“ _Grr_.”

“If you set fire to the fuselage, we will all be arrested. Get out, please.”

Two blurs, one orange and one white, leapt out from the undercarriage and into Amaya's arms. One of them was a lion cub, complete with a visor sticking out of its orange mane. The other was a wolf cub, its breath steaming in the Sicilian November despite the balmy weather of southern Europe. Amaya smiled, bundling them into the car with her.

He was still holding the bags when everyone was inside the car, Gamma driving. Natsu leapt into his arms to be cuddled, and the Sky Lion submitted to being scratched behind the ears.

“For you. Yuni,  _buon compleanno in ritardo_.” The brown-haired man dropped a small box he had extracted from the dashboard. “I had Gamma check it just now, since it's supposed to be a makeup present for the birthday I missed.”

“Y- You didn't have to, Sawada-san.” She tripped over her words.

“Well, I see you as Amaya's little sister, the way you follow her around.” A winning and sincere smile was directed at her from the vehicle commander seat. “Open it.”

Yuni cracked open the silk-lined box, admiring the silver ring curled around a rainbow oval, paired with a pair of long earrings set with baroque pearls. “This is... pearl?” She traced the smooth jewel, realising that it was more like a plate.

“Ammolite, actually.” Amaya leant forward. “Fossilised mother-of-pearl. It shifts colour, you know?”

Yuni blinked as a passing ray of sunlight changed the gem into a blue cat's eye, at least for that moment. “Oh!”

“And since you put a strict budget on birthday gifts, I was forced to improvise.” The brown-haired man sighed. “I did promise to stick with a clam theme.”

Gamma eyed him, quickly turning his attention back to the road when an indignant honk reached them. Palermo was nothing like Naples where people drove on the shady sides only, but cars were tailgating at speeds reaching into the hundred-and-thirties klicks. “A hundred thousand Euro for a pair of gloves is overkill.”

“They were sea silk! Available only from an old lady in Sardinia!”2

“And I appreciate them,” Yuni interrupted, her knuckles tightening on the car door handle as a Piaggio three-wheel cycle started playing paint chicken with them. “But they were really expensive. This is much more creative.”

“I would have gone for the giant clam pearl, but Amaya said no.” The Boss sighed, turning around to glare at the driver of the three-wheel motorcycle. It fell back very quickly.

“They looked like buttons, Papa. The oyster pearls is prettier, but we thought this would be more creative. Look, there's a chatoyancy – that's the term for a cat's eye effect,” Amaya explained to Yuni.

“I think the Decimo's choice was quite good,” Gamma remarked, turning a right corner and ignoring a honking De Tomaso Longchamp with the ease of a Formula One driver. “Pearls are... a bit mature, don't you think so,Decimo?”

“I like pearls.” The brown-haired man said as Gamma jammed his foot on the brake, narrowly missing a Fiat Ulysse taxi and the Pioggia Ape auto-rickshaw racing it.

“Pearls are the result of a defence mechanism against a potentially threatening irritant, or an injury to the mollusc,” he continued as Gamma made a rude gesture to the pair. “It creates a pearl sac, and floods the thing to trap it inside a layer of nacre to become part of its shell. It's like the mollusc is eating whatever that's out to get it to become stronger.” His voice then turned pensive as he considered: “It's a bit like the Vongola, on hindsight. The Vongola absorbs its fallen enemies to become stronger.”

Neither living weapon could render a sound psychological judgement. This was unlike Gamma, who might have said that the man was projecting a bit too much, but was too busy noticing that a horde of mopeds had just appeared out of nowhere at the car's right flank where they were supposed to turn next.

“I hope we don't end up fossilised, then.” Yuni lightly said, admiring the ring as she slipped it onto her middle finger and clipped the earrings on. “The earrings, though...”

“You're wearing white all the time, so I guessed that some colour would brighten up your life.” Amaya explained, with a wink and a deliberate look at the back of the shotgun seat. “The right earring's gem has a dragon skin pattern, which made it cheaper for us. But it looks like part of a dragon-”

“No!”

Silence reigned. Gamma refrained from pressing the car horn. Yuni looked down. “I- I'm sorry, Sawada-san. I just... it was Byakuran. His Box Weapon.”

“No harm done.” the Vongola Boss waved after a while. “I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'll get the earrings replaced.”

“I couldn't-”

“Trust me. It'll be like exorcising the bastard's ghost. Right, Gamma?”

Gamma's grip in the steering wheel increased. The car engine rumbled in time to it. “I'll help.”

“But- I'm alright, it's just a pair of earrings,” Yuni gave a token protest. “They're so beautiful with the ring, too-”

“Don't worry, I was thinking about a pair of pearl studs with this marcasite setting. The indigo pearls were perfect.”

“I'm alright, really.”

Ai, Rete Vongole unit #264348, sank back into Yuni's skin, the earrings and their dragon-skin pattern ammolite gems set onto the leather upholstery. She had nothing against dragons, personally, and she doubted that the real Yuni had a problem with the mythological creatures, two years after Byakuran or otherwise. But her job undercover was to deflect suspicion, and she doubted that any of the Giglio Nero actually knew their newest Boss well enough to suspect anything odd about her outburst. So long as Gamma was busy worrying about the mental health of a teenage girl, the easier it was for Maestro to manipulate the affairs of the Giglio Nero Famiglia.

She clutched the ring in her hands. All of the subterfuge aside, Maestro had come, and had given her a present. Even undercover, she was not alone.

The Vongola Boss effected a long look as the car rolled past a closed-down roadside  _t_ _rattoria_  on the Via Piedmonte, its blue sign rusty at the edges. “ _La Trattoria_ _Oscurità_. This, girls, is a cautionary tale of Italian food safety standards.”

Yuni looked interested. “How?”

“It's where the Vongola Ninth Generation and the last Chief External Advisor died,” The brown-haired man explained, his voice deceptively mild. “Hardened mobsters the lot of them, died during the war by botulism from a  _sfinci_ _o_ _ne Frutti di Mare_. The tale is, be careful of what you eat, even if you have to cook it at a hundred degrees Celsius.”

Gamma pondered the story with a furrowed brow. Perhaps that was the official story: it would not be the first time a Mafia Famiglia had been downed by food poisoning in a bout of ridiculous irony. There were always those who had their doubts that it was anything _but_ a tragic, accidental death, which happened in a  _trattoria_  partly owned by the Millefiore. Many in the alliance had ascribed poison, some undetectable thing that even Vongola Nono had fallen to in the end. Yet, there was nothing to be done, since the mortician had claimed botulism.

“That sounds dangerous!” Ai, or Yuni, carefully did not look at Elmo. After all, the Trattoria had been one of the assets of Pizzino Srl, a subsidiary by a very long chain of connections to Lupara Bianca S.p.A., which was a front for the Maestro's operations.  _Clostridium botulinum_ was also heat-resistant, with the spores able to survive a hundred degrees Celsius to produce the botulinum toxin in a human gut later. Dying Will or not, it was possible to die from accidentally ingesting the filter-feeding quagga mussels, which were easily mistaken for Mediterranean mussels to the untrained eye.

The fact that the  _trattoria_ was a Millefiore investment had been the key, the crux to pressuring the Vongola to declare war on the Millefiore earlier than Byakuran's predictions, before the release of the Anti-Tri-Ni-Sette radiation. It was a Mafia war; poison was a long-established strategy, and the Vongola had barely investigated in the chaos of the Millefiore Famiglia's onslaught.3 The mussels _might_ have been facilitated by Elmo secreting the poisonous mussels amongst those already boiled into the kitchen, just before the pizza was assembled, guessed Ai. Despite the chances of survival from botulism being well into the ninetieth percentile, Elmo had probably done something as well. Not that Ai had the ability, or motivation, to uncover what Elmo had done as her assignment to get the Ninth Generation, and Sawada Iemitsu, literally 'out of the Maestro's way'.

The Rete Vongole were made to fight the Mafia, after all. Nobody said that they could not be smart about it. Elmo, as the oldest unit made of the Vongola dei Cieli, was the most experienced one.

 

 

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* * *

_BIOS START-UP INTERRUPTED. EMERGENCY REFORMAT? IF NOT, PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD AND SELECT 'NO'._

“No, no, no,” Tsuna fretted as men in suits typing on computers attached to the orange clam increased typing at their keyboards. “That means we lose everything!”

“That clam would be marvellous,” spoke a lollipop-sucking blond mechanic, “if it wasn't currently threatening to destroy all the information we need. I'm gonna run a password crack.”

Tsuna swallowed, eyeing the orange clam. Hibari himself stood behind them, staring unimpressed.

“Sawada Ietsuna is a bastard, just so you know.” Hibari spoke as the blond mechanic inserted a USB drive into his CPU. “He would have precautions to cracking his passwords.”

“Cross for luck. Or is that your password?” Spanner considered as another window popped up. _PASSWORD CRACK DETECTED,_ flashed across all the monitor screens. _EMERGENCY REFORMAT INITIATED. EMERGENCY REFORMAT 100%._

“He might have used biometric encryption. Explains how the cracking was detected.” The blond fell back, eyeing a panicked Tsuna. He motioned to Hibari and Tsuna. “Should have used his DNA.”

“They can do that?” Tsuna blinked at the clam. “Use my DNA to access computers?”

“Sure. Usually they use fingerprints, though.” Spanner nodded eagerly. “Does he have your DNA on file?”

“I don't know, I just got here,” Tsuna confessed to the blond. He felt drained, knowing that some explanation, something, anything, had just slipped past him, tossing him into the tendencies of the future.

The other offered him a wrench-shaped lollipop, still wrapped in clear plastic. “Spanner. I used to work for the Millefiore, ended up around an old guy, and now I'm here to find the legendary living Box Weapon.”

“Living Box Weapon?” Tsuna echoed. As far as he understood Box Weapon technology, it sounded like a certain series of Nintendo games with an electric rodent. Which reminded him – he hadn’t yet completed the PokéDex. There were good odds that the National PokéDex had expanded again.

“Normal Box Weapons are like extensions of their user's will,” Spanner patiently explained, mumbling around his own ever-present lollipop. “They get their source directly from the user, which is very well and good, but they're not exactly efficient. The AI – artificial intelligence – for these Box Weapons are like robots. Not bad, but not exactly capable of learning or higher intelligence.”

“This,” Spanner pointed to the orange clam, “if Hedgehog-san over there is right, is capable of exhibiting intelligence of magnitudes far higher than any computer should be capable of. It can reason by itself. Anyone in robotics or computing would want to see this with his own eyes. But the AI wiped itself... we won't get any information from it...”

He trailed off as more text flashed across his monitor screen:

_REFORMAT COMPLETE. BOOTING UP..._

Tsuna's eyes widened as the one line soon turned into a wall of numbers and letters. “T- That's...”

Spanner leant forward. “It's starting up.” The way he said it was, to Tsuna, slightly disturbing. “If it's reformatted, it's like a newborn computer. No instructions yet-”

Everyone jumped as the clam popped open. Hibari brandished his signature tonfas, but the clam just sat there, innocuously showing its soft innards to the world. Tsuna cautiously followed Spanner to it. The two boys stood on either side, examining the two halves joined at the valve, lying open and vulnerable.

“W- What do we do now?” Tsuna asked him.

“You poke it.” Spanner motioned.

“B- But, it might close!”

“True. Who knows what to expect.” Spanner nodded in agreement. “It could have sliced your fingertip off. I need mine to type.”

Tsuna shot him a look, starting as orange Flame began to spark and ignite from the two halves. The motes of light shone like a scanner about the room.

“ _Vongola X Sawada Tsunayoshi recognised._ ” A soft female voice echoed from the clam.

“HIIIEE!!” Tsuna screeched.

“You're noisy.”

“I'm sorry, Hibari-san, but...” Tsuna swallowed. “I just... they stabbed you! And this one followed me from the past! Who knows what she's going to do...”

Spanner was now looking at him with great interest. “Vongola Decimo... you're the Vongola Tenth? But the Tenth-”

“That one is a fake,” Hibari replied.

“A fake? Someone’s been masquerading as Vongola Decimo. Currently the most powerful man in the Mafia?” Spanner's eyebrows climbed. “Sounds interesting. So it's a re-enactment of Yoshitsune, is it? Brothers killing each other.”

“ _Activity in basal ganglia of approved user detected. Proceeding to assimilate human model for general purpose._ _Do not be afraid._ ”

Flames erupted around the model now; instead of orange, these were tinged with off-white and sparks of green static. The mass of Flames gathered into a writhing mass, which gained shape and definition, the white tinged orange and pink into a carnation that could pass for human. Orange gathered around to form a dress, which clothed her slight form as brown hair formed of the same mass of Flame to her shoulders. Two tufts stuck out at her temples, but Tsuna could recognise Ōtan, hale and hearty as she curtsied.

“Rete Vongole, Vongola unit #FF4E20.” she spoke precisely. “Reporting to approved user Vongola X Sawada Tsunayoshi. Please do not be afraid. What is your order?”

“Ōtan?!” Tsuna spoke aloud in shock.

“Name registered.” She tilted her head, looking at him with the empty amber eyes that all of the clones seem to share. “Will now respond to 'Ōtan' as well as my unit number.”

“You... don't remember anything?” Tsuna tried again.

“Internal records indicate that I, unit #FF4E20, was reformatted and have been placed into quarantine mode. If approved, I will now commence uplink to Rete Vongole concept communication system.”

“Rete Vongole... network of clams.” Spanner swallowed. “A Mental Model right from the Fleet of Fog- Wait, wait, no! Sawada, tell the clam not to link!”

Before Tsuna could open his mouth, Ōtan said, “Uplink complete.” She frowned. “Sudden shut-down and reformat initiated quarantine protocols. Error 444: no response. No communication possible.”

Spanner unwrapped another lollipop. “I think we’re screwed if you link up.” Unfortunately, no one was paying attention to him.

“Why me? Why do you keep homing in on me?!” Tsuna wailed in frustration.

“I have been waiting for you for a long time.”

There were so many ways to take that information. Tsuna's mind was busy considering all of those ways, and was crashing like a shoddy computer program.

“You are afraid as you look at me. Is it my appearance? Then I will change it.”

The orange dress morphed into a shirt. That was the most accurate thing Tsuna could watch, as a clone of himself in an overly large buttoned shirt appeared. The clone knelt as he tripped over his own feet and fell down. “Is this not satisfactory?”

“What?” Tsuna gaped. “H- How?”

“This body is only a model composed of Mist and Lightning Flames.” Ōtan explained. “If you wish, I can change my form as you desire. My onboard database is however limited by the default images placed in my IFF systems and what is around my real body now.”

Spanner circled Ōtan eagerly. “You know, you're speaking a lot more fluently than the other unit I've met.” Spanner babbled. “Are you the only one? What species are you? Are all of you clams?”

“I don’t understand?” Tsuna hazarded.

“In my specifications, I have been noted to be the seventh of the seven-unit series marked as Big Seven by the Vongola dei Cieli.” Ōtan replied. “We were designed to serve the Vongola X generation of the Vongola Famiglia. Thus, the series is marked by a physical resemblance to species of the Veneridae family of bivalves, usually of the genus  _Venerupis,_ and require special permissions to be accessible. My real self is a clam of the species  _Venerupis decussata_ , the true Vongola clam, and I am a Sky-primary unit assigned to Vongola X Sawada Tsunayoshi, designed for his benefit. By helping you to achieve results, I fulfil my purpose of existence as set by the Vongola dei Cieli.”

Tsuna blinked. “What's that?”

Spanner leant forward to listen as well.

“The Vongola dei Cieli is our parent unit, administered as unit #FFFFFF of the Rete Vongole.” Ōtan replied, her voice still flat as if her personality had lost some colour.

“That... doesn't answer my question.” Tsuna shook his head. “Could you... change back?”

“Well... Box Weapons are named in Italian.” Spanner explained as a hedgehog hopped over to his desk hiccuping purple flames, as Ōtan's form flashed back to the face Tsuna had first seen her, complete with an orange sundress. “It's shaped as animal name, followed by the Dying Will Flame of the Sky that it uses. For example,” he pointed to the hedgehog. “This is a Hedgehog that uses Cloud Flames, the  _Porcospino Nuvola._ So, the _Vongola dei Cieli_ means…  it's a Box Weapon shaped like a clam, and it uses Sky Flames, thought I'm not sure about the translation.”

Ōtan leant close to the hedgehog. Ōtan's amber eyes studied the little insectivore before her back straightened. “Box Weapon design cross-reference, Lorenzini set #186, Porcospino, altered design version Vongola,” she began to recite. “Modifications made to ensure upgrades, allowances made for Cambio Forma. Attribute: Cloud, may be used with Sky Flames. Main use is to propagate spheres of spikes, which can be used for offense or defence. Current specifications: power B, Intelligence B, speed B, stamina A. Size of thirty centimetres from tip to tail implies that artillery is not a good approach. Conclusion: cannot be fought in an endurance battle, requires concentrated, overwhelming power to defeat under assumption of baseline Cloud statistics.”

Spanner's lollipop dropped out of his mouth as the silence stretched, before Hibari stood up. “And how of you know all of that about Roll?” demanded Hibari. He brought Roll closer to his chest, as if trying to protect him from Ōtan’s eerily detailed knowledge.

Tsuna's fingers twitched as the hedgehog snuffled at his fingers. He remained still, watching the cute creature sniff and yawn. “It's cute.”

“ _Pupi_ ~!” The hedgehog squealed at the call, looking towards Hibari.

Tsuna followed the hedgehog's line of sight. Tsuna's face flushed. “Eh... it's Hibari-san's?”

“ _Pipi_.”

Spanner eyed the Cloud Hedgehog who was clinging with a vice grip to Tsuna's fingers, and then turned back to its owner. “Roll misses the Leone di Cieli.”

“I just accessed the Vongola dei Cieli database of Box Weapon blueprints, Boss.” Ōtan inclined her head, and then frowned. “My onboard copy is still being updated. I have also pinged sister unit #2CA9E1. She is approaching our current location.”

“Approach-you mean, she’s coming here?” Tsuna definitely did not squeak when he asked that question. “How do you know?”

“What part of the word ‘pinged’ do you not get?” Spanner rolled his eyes, pulling out yet another one of his ever present lollipops.

“Using Mist Flames, we are connected via a quantum communication system.” Ōtan tapped her head, a humanising motion that belied the dullness of her eyes. “This translates to our detection abilities as well. Estimated time of arrival: ten seconds.”

“Tetsu.” A flash of purple set Hibari's tonfas alight once a furrow of chaos started at Ōtan's casual announcement. “What of our preparations to go to Sicily?”

“We're ready, Kyo-san.” Kusakabe reported, materializing from that place where all highly efficient second-in-commands lived.

“Sicily?” Tsuna started at the news. “Hibari-san, you're going to Italy?”

“The two of you will be going.” Hibari replied tartly. “These robots were sent to retrieve _you_ , so that nobody would be able to expose Sawada Ietsuna at Sicily. Tetsu will guide you. You must meet the cow herbivore. There is no time-”

Hibari was cut off by an explosion that cracked the ceiling. Tsuna ducked out of the way of falling debris, fumbling for his gloves. He quickly swallowed two of Basil’s pills, entering Hyper Dying Will mode instantly. The bright orange flame on his forehead attracted the attention of several things, most notably a multi-legged critter that bore a sad resemblance to a mutated lobster, which had driven one leg through Spanner's keyboard.

The lobster-like thing had a sleek blue carapace but little else to recommend it. One of its claws was disproportionately large, looking something like a piano hammer with spikes at the end. Black-grey stripes along the end of each abdominal segment, and around its claws, outlined its crustacean shape, along with four small cyan legs that are curved and come to a point. Its round yellow eyes peered straight ahead, at him.

“What is that?” Spanner spoke.

“Why is it looking at me?” Even in Hyper Dying Will Mode, a trace of hysteria could be found in Tsuna’s voice.

“Box Weapon design cross-reference, Lorenzini #081 adapted, Gambero di Pioggia. The Rain Pistol Shrimp.” Ōtan replied, her voice without any emotional inflection. “Modifications include solar cells and test-grade Zooxanthellae cell for independent action, though initial start-up of 1,000 Fiamma Volts with Rain Attribute still required. Independent action lasts for forty-eight hours. Main use for focus and tracking of a chosen living target, and use any projectile in any medium on hand to disable target. Power C, intelligence A, speed A, stamina A.”

The strange pincer clicked, hammering down to spark a bright flash of light and a terrible  _crack_ like a cannon. Tsuna blinked, raising his arms and the Flames to shield from the pop of air pressure that caved his eardrums in. Spanner grabbed him, pulling him over a desk and using it as a shield.

Several things thudded into the plastic-covered pine wood. Tsuna lifted his head, counting the multiple plastic keys from Spanner's keyboard aimed at the side that Spanner had tackled him from. Then his attention was drawn as another unit of cyan-coloured artillery of the crustacean persuasion dropped down and began firing about.

“ _Pupi_ ~!” Roll curled, and the resulting ball of spikes inexplicably grew in size to deflect the next blast. Then Tsuna was up and out, one flaming fist driving down to slap the crustacean into the nearest wall.

Hibari snarled, one tonfa driving into another blue thing, reducing it to so many bits. He rubbed at his left earlobe with a free hand. “Tracking units.”

Spanner got back up, wincing as he massaged both ears. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Tsuna rounded onto him, holding up the defeated shrimp in one Flame-less glove. The thing had been frozen, trapped into never-melting ice, and Tsuna shoved it into Spanner's arms.

“Open ground would be preferable,” Hibari commented as more of them crept in.

The trio ran out, Hibari leading the way and Tsuna covering the rear. Tsuna skidded to a halt as he approached the main entrance, watching Ōtan slowly follow behind him. He had forgotten about her in the mess.

“What are you doing?”

“I am your Box Weapon.” Ōtan replied. “Sortie mode enabled, IFF established. GPS function disabled. Your orders, Boss?”

“B- But you're a-”

Spanner screamed; Tsuna spared a glance, and saw ten more of the tiny artillery-firing shrimps from hell than he would have preferred. Hibari squashed two before the Cloud was caught in a concussive three-blast combination of airwaves.

“Well, if you're so good, then get these things away from us.”

“Yes, Boss.” Ōtan walked towards one shrimp and knelt down by it. Tsuna blinked, surprised despite his calm state of mind as he watched her talk to the shrimp.

It looked useless. But, as she stood up, the shrimp nodded and then turned its own pincer cannon on its compatriots. Tsuna winced as nine flashes of light downed nine other units.

“So, that was helpful,” Spanner croaked, wincing at the pain in his ear. “You could have done that much earlier, you know.”

“There was some confusion with regards as to the alignment of the Rete Vongole with Boss. There is no longer any confusion of my alignment with Boss.”

“And we units of the Big Seven must follow the orders of our user, adds #2CA9E1.”

“Basil?” Tsuna turned his head at the familiar timbre. Confusion kept griping at his mind, especially the fact that Ōtan had just discarded her sisters to follow his orders.

Snow began to fall overhead.

The voice was reminiscent of the young boy that was apprenticed under the CEDEF head, but it was not Basil who had spoken. Instead, it was another Elmo clone, this one dressed in a light blue turtle-neck sweater and jeans with dark boots. Further distinguishing herself from her sisters, not-Basil held a bladed boomerang by her side.

No, that was not right, he realised. Murasaki had used knives and guns, with devastating effect, but she had stuck to submission holds and grappling. Ōtan before her reformat had been downright terrifying, but she had not used a weapon, not that Tsuna had fought Ōtan. Yet, none of them had paraded around so openly like not-Basil did with her lethal boomerang.

“Greetings, #FF4E20.” the clone nodded towards Ōtan. “Error 444. The situation is understood. Thou art unharmed, #2CA9E1 observes.”

“The Big Seven!” Spanner squeaked.

“#2CA9E1 is named Ama, the fourth of the Big Seven series, responds #2CA9E1.” Amber eyes flicked to Spanner. “Facial recognition; Spanner-sama detected. Information has been forwarded to relevant authority.”

Spanner blanched. His lollipop fell out of his mouth unnoticed.

“Another clam masquerading as human.” Hibari knelt, grey eyes alert as Roll rolled at his feet. Roll squeaked again, growing into a large sphere as Hibari drew two more Boxes. A ring on his hands glowed, sparking with purple before he punched one Box with it, and then there was another large sphere flying towards Ama.

Ama side-stepped, brushing it with blue-filled fingers as she passed. A squeak resounded, and both spheres froze over, ceasing their rolling motion as Ama continued to move in the opposite direction, her fingers fanning out to Hibari.

The Cloud Guardian dodged it, but Ama continued, flowing unceasingly as she managed to grab onto one of the subordinates. The man gave an inhale, falling to his knees. Ama kicked him aside, turning around to face Hibari again.

“A Rain Attribute unit,” Hibari's lip curled. “With backup. I will bite you to death.”

“Don't let her touch you, Hibari.” Tsuna's voice was rendered toneless in Hyper Dying Will mode, the better to communicate clearly. Yet, Hibari clearly danced out of her reach, his tonfas glancing every now and then due to his superior arm length. Ama struck low with the bladed boomerang, missing as Hibari danced away from the blade – and struck her other arm, bearing blue Flames.

An involuntary inhale passed his lips. Hibari twitched, and fell over. Tsuna was barely able to respond as Ama abandoned the Cloud and attacked him. His breath steamed, a wisp of white in the midst of the cold as she drew blood with her blade, which had been rimmed in frost.

“Authorisation, minimal injury and paralysis.” Ama dropped the blade, which bisected a piece of stone as it stabbed into the grounds of the Namimori Shrine. “Zero Point Breakthrough, First Edition. Countermeasure required. Simulation begin.”

To Tsuna's great surprise, Ama grabbed one of his hands. Her own limb felt cold to his touch, though it could just be the eternal ice forming over the limb.

Her arm began to freeze over, ending as she drew a kukri from behind her and viciously chopped off her own arm and backed out of his reach. The point of it was established later, as her arm regrew in a flash of indigo and green, but the chopper arm weighed down his hand like a shackle.

“Our bodies which are composed of Dying Will Flames will also be frozen. Conclusion: Zero Point Breakthrough cannot be controlled towards certain targets. It will freeze anything it touches.”

The orange Sky Flame erupted back onto his gloved hands, blowing the detached limb off of his hand. “They would go to such lengths-”

Ama was attacking again, trapping one of his hands in her own as the other arm coiled around his neck. Then it was simply cold; cold as standing in an iceberg naked might feel, so cold that he kept panting and twitching, unable to react as he fell into Ama's embrace.

“Cold shock response triggered. Transporting to Administrator.” Ama looked at Spanner. “Will thou interfere?”

Spanner held up both hands. “Hell no. I'm just a technician. By the way... did you freeze them or something?”

“Classified information.”

“Don't be so cold. You're one of the living Box Weapons, right?” Spanner entreated. “What's the use of granting you higher-order thought if you can't show it off?”

Ama's cheeks flushed. Tsuna felt like it too, since it looked like Spanner was entirely serious about flirting with the living Box Weapon.

“The special ability of #2CA9E1 is temperature control.” Ama's shoulders tightened. “Upon contact... with the Rain Flame, the effect produced in living beings... similar to being dunked in cold water. Initial cold shock response would paralyse the affected for possibly up to one minute.”

“Using a biological quirk against them,” Spanner nodded. “Very clever. You're a credible retrieval unit.”

Ama looked at him. Her amber eyes slid to the side and then, she nodded. “The Administrator has placed thy transport as a secondary priority. Irie-sama would be pleased to see his friend again.”

The smile faded. “...Sho-chan is alive?”

“Irie-sama hast been the guest of the Vongola dei Cieli for the past two years.” Ama drew a gun from her belt, thumbing back the hammer with one hand. “Will you follow, Sir?”

Spanner hesitated, one hand reaching out to her. “What about him?”

“The Administrator will return Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama to his time. Otherwise, the events of this time... will not come to pass.”

“And... what about the rest?”

“#2CA9E1 confesses ignorance. It is likely that they will be wiped out.”

“H- Help...” Tsuna breathed. “Ōtan...”

“Yes, Boss.”

Ama dodged the Flame-covered fist easily, holstering the gun back onto her belt while tightening her hold on Tsuna's body. “#2CA9E1 cautions to #FF4E20, thou art inexperienced. Thine powers are difficult to use in single combat.”

“What's with the _keigo_...” Spanner muttered, sidling away as Tsuna's hands began to rise. “Well, I've seen something unexpected here. The rest is yours, Vongola.”

Tsuna swallowed, wrapping his arms around Ama. The living weapon started. “What-”

“Zero Point Breakthrough,” rasped Tsuna, “Revised.”

It was a half-assembled technique developed in training for the Varia showdown. Despite being technically not as effective as the First Edition, the basic idea was to absorb the opponent's Flames, purify them, and add them to his own store. He had not had the time to use it against Xanxus during the stormy battle – literally and metaphorically – but sleeping against her arms for a minute had given him the time to focus. Plus, in this case, his opponent was composed of literally nothing but Flames and a tiny clamshell.

“Zero Point Breakthrough: Revised Edition detected.” A quaver entered Ama's cold analysis. “Countermeasure: counter-attack. Freezing. Lightning Flames reduced, overall percentage twenty. Losing stability... permission to escalate from 0.01 percent requested.”

Tsuna's eyes snapped to her cheek with alarm, but then a regretful tone sounded. “Harm not allowed to Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. Idea discarded. New objective: to delay Sawada Tsunayoshi until the Administrator arrives. Understood.”

Tsuna had vaguely got that Ōtan could change her forms. The true implications really hit when an elephant seal where Ama had been standing decided to head-butt him. And then it sat on him. Over a hundred kilograms of cold Flame-constructed muscle and bone, was currently crushing his bones and ruining his focus. Tsuna was so surprised by the nonsensical absurdity of it all that he accidentally slipped out of Hyper Dying Will mode.

“Please close your ears, Boss.”

Tsuna clapped his gloved hands over his ears as a bellow rang on his right side, nearly blowing out his eardrum. The seal shifted, or was tossed off of him, Tsuna did not know since a polar bear lumbered after the sea, its claws slipping on the fat-lined slippery grey skin.

“Are you alright, Boss?”

Tsuna started as Ōtan's voice trailed from the bear. “Y- Yeah-”

“Good.”

The seal twitched its tail, before its form collapsed into a puddle of blue, changing fluidly into a winged form as a wave arose and crashed into the polar bear, and then it was a swallow, pecking the bear's eyes. The bear bellowed, its claws scoring the air with orange Flame, and then it was an eagle, pecking back at the swallow.

The swallow fell, coalescing into a blue snapper tortoise that snapped at the eagle. The eagle seized the tortoise's shell with its talons, rising above the ground, and for a moment it looked like it was over even as the snapper-tortoise thrashed.

Tsuna gasped as the snapper tortoise changed into a weasel, which curled around and bit into the eagle's throat as the wings bit on either side of it. The eagle gave a piercing cry of pain and fell onto the ground, wrestling with its mustelid foe as it changed back into Ōtan. The weasel snorted, collapsing into a mass of blue and a single clam thudded, before there stood Ama, who had blood leaking from the corners of her mouth.

Ama straddled the orange-shrouded clone, choosing to deal out punishing open-handed slaps to Ōtan. The ground cracked when her hands, glowing blue with Flame, deflected off of Ōtan's face and landed onto the stones.

It might be a fight between living weapons with the shape of girls, but Tsuna could only hear the restrained gasps of pain. “Stop!” Tsuna dived in, throwing a punch at Ama's head.

The blue-dressed clone rolled, getting back to her feet as fluidly as the weasel-shape she had assumed in tearing Ōtan's throat out. Tsuna let her, busy checking on Ōtan.

“She's your sister!” He yelled at the blue-dressed clone, checking on Ōtan. “How can you do this?!”

Without looking away, Ama openly spat onto the shrine's ground. The spit was openly tainted with blood, which melted into orange Flame. There was something ridiculously human in that motion, in that need not to cannibalise Flames. “We were on opposite sides the moment she had to fulfil her orders, explains #2CA9E1. Wilt thee yield, beseeches #2CA9E1?”

“I am functional, Boss.” Ōtan panted, pushing herself away from Tsuna into a sitting position. Ōtan looked from her sister to Tsuna, ignoring the scrapes and blood on her face. She grimace, as they caught in Flame, repairing her features to their pristine cuteness. “Though I may be the youngest and least-experienced of the Big Seven, I am still a unit of high processing capability.”

Ama nodded. “Currently... it cannot be helped, regretfully adds #2CA9E1. Orders are to be fulfilled. Will ye yield, asks #2CA9E1?”

“That is foolish. I cannot do that unless ordered by duly constituted authority.”

Tsuna blinked, wondering if Hyper Dying Will mode had messed with his hearing. “What do you mean?”

“I am bound to your orders,” Ōtan explained slowly, getting to her conspicuously bare feet. “We are weapons. We exist purely to fulfil orders. Even the naming of us as sisters indicate so, that we are united in the purpose of our orders in the name of the Vongola. By helping you to achieve your objectives, I fulfil my purpose of existence.”

“But what do you think about that?”

“What I think does not matter.”

Tsuna looked at her. “But do you really think that?”

“I do not understand.” Ōtan looked troubled. “What do my feelings factor into the clear achievement of your objective?”

“That's enough, interrupts #2CA9E1.” Ama sighed as snow began to descend around them more strongly, like hail or sleet. “Target Lock.”

Tsuna prepared to fight back, but he was sucker-punched by another  _pop_ of air pressure as blue Flames were shot at Ōtan. Ama had not been stating a program sequence; she had been ordering a waylaid Rain Pistol Shrimp to stun him with its sonoluminescent attack as she ran towards him. He crashed into a shrine on the ground.

Now uninterrupted, Ama drew the black gun, preparing to fire but freezing as another gunshot resounded behind her.

“That looks even more interesting.” Spanner commented, never letting up his two-handed grip on a small revolver. “When you were preparing to leave, you drew that as well. You clearly don't use it as a weapon, so... an escape? A signal? It looks just like a gun.”

Barely responding, she levelled the firearm at him. “Can it be presumed that Spanner-sama is not following us?”

A muscle twitched. “No, I will not follow. And you'd better leave, or the police will come. Japan is rather strict about firearms, aren't they? Neither of us have a lot of time, but your boss, the one who made Murasaki and Ōtan, might have words to say if you were caught with that device.”

Ama stilled, considering his words. Beside her, the whirl of tonfas resounded. “Get out of the way,” Hibari snapped at Spanner.

Tsuna would have agreed, but the latest attack had broken his sense of balance, as if his brain had broken into a million pieces within his head.

“You know the Vongola kid can't fight you now.” Spanner explained calmly, not to Hibari, but to Ama. “Neither can your... sister? Sister unit? Neither can Ōtan. But the police are coming to arrest everyone. As pretty as your name is – sky-coloured, am I translating it right? – I don't think you have the documents to prove that. So we can all wait here, and get arrested. The three of us will get out sooner or later. But illegal immigrants in Japan... you don't want to get caught and monitored, right? Especially holding that portal-making device disguised as a Beretta 92FS. It might lead back to your boss.”

Ama's eyes widened. For the first time, actual panic crossed her face. It made for an ugly look. Ama's eyes slid to the side, and back. She holstered her gun on her belt, and swiftly retrieved her bladed boomerang, easily dual-wielding it with the kukri blade in her other hand before they joined the gun.

“You could kill everyone, but what about the evidence?” Spanner continued mocking. “You're just one unit. And, I'm sure that one of us just needs to keep you here and fighting-”

To Spanner's stunned face, she drew the gun, holding it up to her temple.

Ōtan held up a hand. “#2CA9E1, there is no need for drastic measures-”

Ama pulled the trigger.

* * *

~'*'~

_ VDC :// ReteVongole / 777X/ 2ca9e1 _

_ # 2ca9e1  s yslogd: blue shading  Big Seven.  Location:  (X, Y, Z) _

_Response_ _:_ _HELENE_ _.exe startup._ _Option:_ _Leonids._

~'*'~

* * *

“Hmm?”

“What is it, Amaya?”

Elmo, under her cover as the princess of the Vongola, merely smiled in the rear-view mirror. “I was thinking about the Leonids in Enna.”

“The Leonids are in November. We'll see them next year.”

Elmo nodded wordlessly at the approval, mentally sending the message along the concept communication system. She settled back, and Asari Amaya kicked her feet as she peered out of the car window, the two of them alone. “Tomorrow, I will assign someone else to play Asari Amaya while I carry out the mission you need.”

“To begin with, Asari Amaya is an identity of the Rete Vongole.” Slender artist's fingers drummed a tattoo on the steering wheel. “Will you be alright?”

“Yes, Papa. Elmo will ensure that Uncle safely returns to his time.” Elmo paused. “Even if the Vongola dei Cieli would no longer exist.”

* * *

The gun clattered to the ground, discharged of all its bullets.

Spanner blinked slowly as Ama's body, brain matter and spilled blood melted into a puddle of blue, revealing the sky-blue clamshell contained within, like a robin's egg. “That's... she committed suicide?”

Ōtan was not listening to him, having assisted Tsuna to all fours and held onto his ears. “We must leave now,” Ōtan urged. “#2CA9E1 will not die from that, since her hardware unit was not damaged. Her Flames mingling with the Black Cartridge's storage will have triggered a unique beacon for the Administrator's air-strike.”

“W- What-?” Hibari staggered to his feet, shivering.

“Air-strike?” Spanner echoed, having heard Ōtan's urgent entreaty. “ _Shimatta_.”

* * *

Within a certain location that defied conventional notions of time and space, Yamabuki snorted as she received the OK. The containers that surrounded her disappeared, replaced by the interior of a bridge, complete with consoles, large screens and windows into every aspect of the place.

“Target locked, blue shading beacon.” Yamabuki flipped a few switches. “Volley: Leonids. Fire at will.”

Shoichi came to the room filled with screens as the roar of cannons firing into black portals that materialised before them appeared before the panels of the room. “Yamabuki, is there something in the bridge- did someone call down a Leonids air-strike?”

“Yes, Irie-sama.”

Shoichi looked at her. “It's possible, I recall, for all of you to fire it off without being physically in the bridge.”

Yamabuki pondered this fact as the explosive shells disappeared from before them. There was _something_ towards pressing the buttons that delivered the payload of combined incendiary and shrapnel shells away from the long guns and towards whatever location their operative decided had to be razed to non-existence, and Yamabuki admitted as such. It was, to her, the flashy art of pyrotechnics and the combined technical expertise to realise it that was attractive.

As Shoichi slid into the nearest chair clutching his stomach, the second oldest of the Big Seven wondered what had brought his stomach-ache on.

* * *

Hibari's teeth kept chattering, which only reinforced that impression of hypothermia that Tsuna was stuck in as well. It had been near-miraculous, the way the blue aura that Hibari was wrapped in dissipated once the Cloud had been awakened from certain death by freezing. Several other men had succumbed to weakness in the cold, and it was doubtful if Spanner alone could have gotten them down the shrine's steps.

As it stood, the large black car being driven by Kusakabe stopping before them had been fairly close to a godsend. Kusakabe himself wrapped both Tsuna and Hibari into thick blankets and bundled them in with Ōtan and Spanner. Spanner only then realised that there was another man inside the back of the car, where two benches sat facing each other like the interior of a limousine.

The doors closed, and it took off. Kusakabe's maniac driving was explained as Spanner peered out of the window as a series of black portals rippled into existence over the Namimori Shrine and dumped a rain of artillery shells over the holy building. The large shells rained down, and halfway through their fall, the twenty-four plummeting rounds came apart in flashes of hell-fire or flying shrapnel.

Spanner paled as a ten-centimetre piece embedded itself into the window, held by shatter-proof polymer-covered glass of a Japanese car. Rolling next to him, a family of people were not as lucky, and blood painted the side-walk and the windowpane, causing Tsuna to stare in renewed horror.

A heartbeat later, Kusakabe's maniac driving took them away from the subsequent tattoo of concussive explosions, some streaked with the white fumes of what Spanner realised were weapons that completely ignored the Geneva Convention. More shrapnel flew around, slicing trees into ribbons and tearing roads apart, but green shields kept appearing at the back of their car, shielding them from similar fates as the completely razed shrine.

It was an example of networked, coordinated warfare at its finest, thought Spanner. At least the shrine, and by extension the base, had been isolated, and with the car came an excellent responsive defence system.

“That Lorenzo.” The car's other occupant commented. Spanner would have dismissed him, if not for the off-white clamshell balanced on his crossed legs, right above his kneecap. Clams were turning out to be a more dangerous entity than he had thought. “A brilliant man, if as obsessed with art as that Innocenti. So, Mr Spanner. What do you say about this project?”

Tsuna, already out of Hyper Dying Will mode, felt his teeth chatter in sadness and barely concealed horror as he studied the other man. “W- Who are you?”

“I forget myself, young Vongola.” The blond man eyed him, Hibari, Spanner, and settled upon Ōtan. “The Rete Vongole unit over there might remember me.”

“I was reformatted recently, and thus am still in quarantine mode,” Ōtan refuted. “I, Unit #FF4E20, have yet to receive the updated approved user list, but cross-referencing the lists with facial recognition indicates that you are Herr Kœnig, assigned to the user group Trio. One of the three creators of Box Weapon technology.”

She turned to the clam, to Tsuna's surprise. “Congratulations on your assignment, Unit #EBF6F7.”

Spanner kept looking from Ōtan to the clamshell, a trickle of drool escaping his mouth. “Hanging around the Vongola brings such interesting things.”

Tsuna's jaw cracked. “D- Do y- you know... her?”

“No, Boss. #EBF6F7 is not registered as part of the Big Seven, nor was she existent in my records, outdated they may be.” Ōtan honestly replied. “However, when a fellow unit has been metamorphosed and assigned, is that not the assignment of a purpose?”

“No, no,” demurred Kœnig in accented, if excellent, Japanese. “Aij-iro was not assigned to me. I metamorphosed her from the Vongola dei Cieli itself to test my concept of specialising defences on the fly. She... became precious to me.”

Tsuna believed him, watching the blond European gently stroke the off-white shell.

“That does not change the fact that you are the one who gave Unit #EBF6F7 a purpose, Herr Kœnig.” Ōtan said. “She is your weapon to fight for you, defend you.”

Kœnig shook his head, staring outside at the chaos and carnage that had rained down upon the peaceful town of Namimori. “There are weapons and armour aplenty, to wage that purpose. Weapons that have no need for sentience, or feelings, or judgement. They have no need to fight, or to defend. Lorenzo, Verde’s student… He changes all of that. He has a drive and ambition beyond anything I’ve seen. His intelligence, his innate talents, and his creativity – they are all admirable traits, turned to creations which are more like dolls and fight like the armadas of old. But he is more dangerous than any of us. He has no limits. Nothing to stop him from accomplishing his goals. No regret. No good sense, no thirst of knowledge; not even a desire for creation. Like the black that consumes all colours, his drive to achieve his goals will hurt others, destroy lives, cover worlds in deception and mire them in darkness.”

Kœnig drew a shuddering breath the very act of thinking weighing on his conscience. “It is as if his own life had been destroyed, and he is now retaliating against the world without restraint.”

* * *

_**1 This is a reference to the RGB code that the Rete Vongole units refer to themselves by. #264348 is the colour of Japanese indigo, also names 'ai-iro'.** _

_**2 Sea silk is an extremely fine, rare, and valuable fabric that is made from the long silky filaments or byssus secreted by a gland in the foot of pen shells (in particular Pinna nobilis). The shell, which is sometimes almost a metre long, adheres itself to rocks with a tuft of very strong thin fibres, pointed end down, in the intertidal zone. These byssus or filaments (which can be up to 6 cm long) are spun and, when treated with lemon juice, turn a golden colour, which never fades. The cloth produced from these filaments can be woven even finer than silk, and is extremely light and warm; however, it attracts clothes moths, the larvae of which will eat it. It was said that a pair of women's gloves made from the fabric could fit into half a walnut shell and a pair of stockings in a snuffbox. ** _

_**Pinna nobilis has become threatened with extinction, partly due to overfishing, the decline in seagrass fields, and pollution. As it has declined so dramatically, the once small but vibrant sea silk industry has almost disappeared, and the art is now preserved only by a few women on the island of Sant'Antioco near Sardinia. Only one still harvests the material and knows how to dye it its golden colour, and according to the BBC, she's not selling it.** _

3  _ **I took some liberties here, since it's not actually possible to mistake the striped quagga mussel for the black Mediterranean mussel in real life.**_ _ **Also,**_ _ **cases like these are the reason why seafood should be well-cooked,**_ _ **and raw stuff to be handled carefully for eating.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist the Arpeggio of Blue Steel reference.
> 
> Also, the Gambero di Pioggia is my creation. PM me if you want the specs!
> 
> Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!


	37. Folio 36: Pentimento

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2016!
> 
> \- LLS

 

Hana stopped abruptly, midway from exiting Kyoko’s private ward. She was barely paying attention to anything, even though the television in the room was flashing a breaking news story about the Namimori Shrine.

In the private ward's sole bed, the brown-haired girl turned towards her. “Hana-chan?”

“Nothing, Kyoko.”

Sasagawa Kyoko looked back at her. “Hana-chan, I don't get to see you or Haru-chan most of the time, and usually... nobody tells me anything, but I can tell, you know?”

“I don't know.”

Kyoko fidgeted, tucking a strand of long hair back. Neither girl said anything as the lock of hair fell out from under the hat she wore indoors. “Nii-chan, he visits... sometimes. When he's not wearing oven mitts to fight. But, Hana-chan... I know you're paying my bills.”

Hana looked back at her. “I'm a judicial scrivener.”1

“I know. Hana-chan can make it anywhere.” Kyoko smiled wanly. “But... your boss at that company is so nice, taking you in after that nasty firm. It was... Nocturnal, right?”

“Nocturne Consulting and Associates,” Hana weakly corrected. “My... boss, he is difficult. Kind, but difficult. Mr Laurence has an international base.”

“Oh.” Kyoko's lips parted in surprise. “I'm glad, Hana-chan.”

“Of course!” Hana bristled slightly. “So... I'll see you once the weekend comes around, Kyoko.”

Hana strode out.

“You're the best, Hana-chan.” Kyoko nodded once she was alone. “I hope you're happy when I see you again. Because... I will get better. So, Hana-chan, we won't need to say goodbye.”

Hana had never looked more intimidating and unapproachable, in her monochrome power suit, a pearl set in marcasite brooch and tiny diamond stud earrings the only bits of colour she would allow. Outside the gates of the hospital, Hana reached into her shirt and fished out a small cabochon locket on a silver chain, slung around her neck. The cabochon glowed a light peridot, with the etchings of a snake-haired woman's head a shadow against the translucent stone.

Hana huffed, tucking the locket back before her hands brushed the pearl brooch. She walked a while, before sidling into an alleyway and into the black portal that appeared before her.

A while later, Kurokawa Hana stepped onto a patchy field, leading up to craggy mountains and the forbidding silhouette of a castle in the distance. Behind her and back in the alley, the portals disappeared.

Lifting the curved brooch, Hana hooked it such that the pearl lay against her eardrums, a tight fit against her earlobe that did not chafe. “Elmo?”

“ _Signora Lancia,”_ Elmo's voice filtered in through the makeshift ear-bud. _“The Signor is here.”_

Hana walked up a slope, towards the castle in the distance.

“Hana.”

Hana turned around en route, blinking as she stared at the injured thug-faced man. “What happened?”

Lancia shrugged. “Fon had a disagreement over my supervising his disciple. Last I checked, Kusa and Wakakusa is dealing him. I-Pin... I-Pin wanted to keep Fon out of this, but...”

He focused back on her. “Never mind, we can discuss that later. Signorina Sasagawa is not well?”

“She's recovering, but it's weak.” Hana sighed. “So, we're supposed to attack the castle and smoke the Millefiore remnants out, right? What is it?”

“The Šišmiš Dvorac, a property that survived the ages.” Lancia agreed. “Inside is Rasiel and his subordinate Olgert, Genkishi, Kikyo, Bluebell and Zakuro, along with a few foot soldiers. On our side will be us, and Murasaki is going to join us soon. Leave the fighting to us and focus.”

Hana's fist lashed out. “Daisy attacked Kyoko, he made her into this... why can't I? I want to kill them.”

Lancia stoically regarded the fist resting on his right pectoral. “Daisy is amongst the weakest of the Six Funeral Wreaths, and he nearly killed you. You cannot afford to die here.”

“I-!” Hana glared. “...but if I come across one?”

“That should be no problem.” Lancia winced.

“What's wrong?” Hana blinked. “You're... hurt.”

Gingerly, Lancia cradled his bruised jaw. “Fon in Cambodia. Long story. He found out about Serata Limited. The other Arcobaleno are covering the Americas and the Cayman Islands, hence I managed to run from one Arcobaleno rather than four.”

“There goes another front,” Hana sighed. “At least not as important as Nocturne and Lupara Bianca. After this whole thing, Kyoko's treatment will be done. Then I will take Kyoko to disappear.”

“Disappear? But the Vongola Sun Guardian-”

“He caused this on Kyoko!” Hana's snarl caught him by shock. “Ryohei can fight, but he's a dumbass. He can't predict traps. If he wants to fight, fine, but I will not let Kyoko get caught in the crossfire again.”

Hana glanced to Lancia, fury in her eyes. “Lancia... thanks for being here.”

“Sawada-san invited me with an honourable purpose,” admitted North Italy's strongest. “He saved my life, which is a big enough favour, but this thing... sometimes I do not know, how does the Vongola manage to overlook the imposter Decimo. It is not comfortable, this plan. A lot of people have died for it, over the Tri-Ni-Sette.”

“The Tri-Ni-Sette,” Hana spat. “Sawada had a good idea, you know, to destroy it once and for all.”

* * *

The wreckage of the Namimori Shrine was still spewing smoke as blue Flame sparked above it. Coalescing together, the blue Flame moved like plasma to gather back and solidify into the form of a brown-haired girl, outfitted in sky-blue.

Huffing to herself, Ama's amber pupils slid to the side. It was a signal, a signal to displace her mind into a garden pavilion of colourful flowers, presided over by a dark mistress in black.

“They escaped, report #2CA9E1.” Ama quietly imparted through their quantum communication system.

Elmo barely reacted to the news. “Noted, Elmo replied to #2CA9E1. Elmo adds, who else appeared?”

“#2CA9E1 sensed #EBF6F7. Full combat data report uploading.”

“Elmo understands.” Crossing her legs, Elmo reclined back as a blue mist surrounded the pavilion, sucked into the blackened iron structure of the roof and pillar lattices, in which blackened briars tangled. “Data received. Why was the Leonids air-strike called?”

“Spanner-sama used a gun. #2CA9E1 did not factor in the presence of gun-phobic authorities. #2CA9E1 apologises to the Administrator.”

Elmo closed her eyes. “Maestro knows, Elmo reluctantly imparts. Needless to say, Maestro will be less than pleased with this news.”

Ama nodded.

“Elmo recommends that #2CA9E1 finds Miss I-Pin and Monsieur Fran, if only to delay the return back.”

“At once.”

Ama disappeared from the pavilion. Two seconds later in the real world, her body disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

* * *

A cough like a sheep on a distant Scottish hillside resounded. “Sir?”

Blinking, Verde poked the sleeping caiman that had somehow ended up in his bedsheets. He then deigned to look up at the brown-haired girl in the soft yellow-green apron, carrying a breakfast tray. Of course, he knew that the girl was not really a girl, but somehow the Rete Vongole units seemed to inspire people to treat them like actual humans. “Karekusa. Date and time, weather, messages, and others.”

“It is December the fifth, thirteen hundred hours Central European Time, with offset. The weather is expected to be cloudy, given the eruptions from Mount Etna as of the day before. As for messages, there are three individual parties since last evening. Maestro has left concerns about Master Verde's health, social inclinations, and general welfare, as his custom. Mr Skull has left concerns about Christmas and sent an Advent calendar. And Monsieur Fran has asked when, to quote directly, 'is Berry-poo going to get his reptilian ass up'. As for others, #4F284B is awaiting your arising on a consultation in your study.”

The entire report was given in a flat tone, never wavering, in the exact order that Verde had requested. Karekusa had not been built with the imagination to take anything but literal orders. Karekusa was a lovely assistant; one without the imagination to betray him or anything else.

Verde yawned slightly, pushing at his green bedclothes and marvelling at his adult-sized limbs. He cast an eye to Karekusa, trying to recall if a sentient unit came in that RGB code- oh, yes, the first one. “Ah. Murasaki, was it? I'll just... clean up first. Why is she here, by the way?”

“It is not to assassinate you, sir, or to steal the work you brought home, or anything within the multitude of concerns that the Maestro brings up regularly. That much can be ascertained.”

Verde idly wondered if this lack of reasoning process was supposed to be a failing of himself to provide new information to the AI, or a benefit that he had an assistant who looked human but was explicitly not. He immediately discarded those thoughts, because they were depressing and implied that the only semi-coherent relationship he had had so far were the distant Arcobaleno and his insane student. “Anyone with half a brain can ascertain that, and I did not hire you to state the obvious. Why did I hire you, Karekusa?”

“#E4DC8A was assigned to your service as a test,” was the cool response as Karekusa set the tray at the foot of the bed, and knelt down to extract a chest from under the bed. “There was no hiring on your part, sir, since this is an ongoing experiment on the natures of artificial intelligence. It has been ongoing for two years or so, sponsored under the front of Pizzino Srl.”

Ah, right, Verde recalled. It had been after the- the war. Developing a functional base AI to use in the less sentient  _soldati_  units had seemed extremely important then, and Karekusa had been printed and pieced together as a prototype. Two years in, and Karekusa could barely pass as a human being, even in a controlled environment. Verde envied the Big Seven series for their chameleon-like ability to blend into human society, and the high processing capabilities they wielded as easily as breathing – as much as a simulacrum of Flames could breathe.

It was much like meeting their maker, Verde reasoned to himself. Which was a lousy comparison, because his student sometimes felt a bit _off_. Skull liked him, and Viper respected the self-styled Lorenzo, and Verde comforted himself with the thought that at least, his student agreed that the Tri-Ni-Sette was a damper placed by Kawahira on seven random people who hated each other.

Enough of that, Verde thought, pulling on the trousers and buttoned shirt with the French cuffs that Karekusa laid out for him. Since Ietsuna had figured out the key to the impossible, Verde and Skull would help him do whatever he wanted. The Man in the Iron Hat was going to appear, after all, and Verde would need the other to fend off Checker Face. One of the seven units had apparently come to pay a visit... and...

Here he groaned, considering his schedule for the week and finding that one rendezvous. The Arcobaleno were going to meet up at the Commission. Their first post-War meeting, sans the Sky. A good Marsala, he thought, was going to be demanded from his student's storage.

First, though, the living weapon in his apartment. He could just turn up in the altogether, but there was something about them that always left him wanting body armour and a nuclear arsenal on standby just to talk to them.

Karekusa held up a velvet-lined box, which carried a pair of cuff-links shaped like tiny scallops, the carved jewels bearing the same shade of yellow-green as Karekusa's apron. Verde lifted an eyebrow. “We are indoors.”

“Sir, it is your own precaution.”

“Fine.” Verde cursed, holding out his arms to watch Karekusa slip them into the buttonholes and setting his cuffs straight. His cuff-links shimmered with a flame-like chatoyancy as he donned a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles and the lenses flared. “Do you think we need tea?”

She disappeared. That was, Verde reflected, an inaccurate term, given that Karekusa's real body was currently being worn on his person, and since the human model that she operated to serve as his latest assistant was just a mass of Flames. More than once, Verde had wondered why he chose to wear a living Box Weapon, if the Rete Vongole units could be called that, so close to his person. In this case, he was then confronted with Murasaki, whom Karekusa had neglected to mention was in full armour, and Verde was very glad that his assistant would be on hand.

“Those are lovely pearls,  _signorina_.” Verde greeted Murasaki, who had turned up in the living room of his Palermo apartment in a little black dress with a boat-neck.

Pearls in varied colours strung together hung in a doubled choker around her neck, strung around both wrists, and hanging on her right ankle. On her earlobes shone two more pearls, each the colour of gold and set in a frame of purple gold. The purple kitten heels she wore was the only indicator of her primary Flame type.

The Cloud Flame, Verde recalled, was based on reproduction – in Murasaki's case, reproduction with variation. “Are those all your daemon units, Murasaki?” Verde enquired.

Murasaki inclined her head. “Yes, Master Verde. But they are not activated, assures #4F284B to Master Verde. #4F284B is here to enquire about #FF4E20, adds #4F284B.”

“Oh.” Verde deflated once he decoded which unit Murasaki was talking about. “ _Her_.”

That unit specialised in communication, he recalled. Ōtan had the dubious distinction of being able to communicate with anything, anywhere, allowing the exchange and understanding of concepts fluidly without any chance of being misunderstood. Verde had been present at the field test, where the youngest of the Big Seven had simply talked the Millefiore Famiglia's Death Stalk Unit into killing each other. She- _it_ was a very effective unit.

She had a purpose that allowed her to live freely, he told himself. As a weapon, she never needed to know or care about a high and lonely destiny. Still, his curiosity got the better of him. “What about her?”

“#FF4E20 has been... captured, #4F284B explains hesitantly. She has shut herself down after a verbal rejection from Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.”

“Oh. Like Midori.” Verde considered, much more relaxed now that Murasaki was confirmed to be non-hostile to him.

Mentally, he compared the sister units. It had been funny when the girls- units had started on that Japanese browser game involving warships, because then he had thought of Murasaki as an aircraft carrier, and Midori as a battleship. Midori had the tougher specs, but Verde had to admit that Murasaki was far more flexible. Verde had mentally thought that Midori's toughness – along with the consistency of her heuristic codes – had been a contributing factor in her endurance when the idiot cow brat had discarded her to Siberia. Midori had certainly gotten out from that situation intact when the brat finally realised his mistake and the multiple uses of Midori.

Verde frowned to himself. He did not remember if the Big Seven's youngest had the same heuristic consistency. He had never been too interested in the Big Seven outside of Midori. “There is nothing to be done. If Ōtan has reformatted, we can only hope that she duplicated her memories onto the Rete Vongole servers.”

“#4F284B understands, acknowledges #4F284B. 34F284B offers thanks to Master Verde, along with her farewells.” A pause, and a short, technically perfect curtsy was executed.

The girls- _units_ could take human form, and could blend in and kill humans in one form and then change to another. It was so easy to mistake them as people, Verde reflected. Even Elmo could pass as human. But they were weapons – the strongest weapons. It showed, even in odd gestures like curtsying. “You don't need such formality with me, Murasaki. Such finery, though... can I assume that you will be the next one to play Asari Amaya? Is Elmo being deployed.”

“No, assures #4F284B. Maestro and the Administrator are receiving Vongola X Rain and Sun Guardians at the Falcone-Borsellino Airport. #4F284B is to assist the Signor and Signora Lancia against the Šišmiš Dvorac once the personal errand is done.”

“...good luck with that.” Verde nodded, almost absently. In fact, he was attempting to calculate if the Millefiore remnants would survive. “You can see yourself out, I'm sure.”

“ _Arrivederci_ , Master Verde.”

“ _Arrivederci_.”

The door closed, and Verde was confident that Murasaki was no longer on his doorstep, having vanished into a black portal. “Ah.”

“Sir?” Karekusa was at his side.

“I forgot the social niceties.”

“Indeed, sir?”

Verde contemplated it, looking down at his adult-sized body. The Vongola dei Cieli research base had provided the clue to break at least that part of the Arcobaleno curse, which was really all they needed. Checker Face would be closing in soon once Verde revealed himself and Skull as the main beneficiaries of becoming an adult. “Karekusa. I would like to speak to my apprentice.”

Silence reigned, before a soft thump indicated her reappearance, hands folded while she perched on the sofa. “Dinner appointment. Would Master Verde prefer to join him? And would Master Verde permit being dragged out of his laboratory at the appointed time?”

Verde realised then. Sticking him with Karekusa was less of a field test for a weapon unit, and more like making sure that he made his appointments on time.

* * *

Having barely escaped two pineapples and a host of three Varia assassins, Fran twitched when he got into the city of Siem Reap proper, and found himself sharing a  _tuk tuk_  with one of the chosen seven.

“Is everyone hanging out in Cambodia or something?” he asked the third person in the trailer attached to a motorcycle. Their driver, a pleasant-faced fellow, was currently distracted by an upset lorry in the middle of the Angkor Wat temple complex. “And why are you guys dressed different?”

I-Pin considered the question. Unlike her usual style of twin braids looped behind her head like a butterfly, she currently wore her hair loose in a ponytail secured with a red ribbon. She wore a plaid button-down shirt and a ruffled black skirt with black calf-high socks and black Converses, exposing the inked dragon on her left thigh. Seated across Fon, who was still in his red _changshan_ , she seemed every bit the modern Hong Kong girl. Nobody would have guessed that the two of them were master and disciple.

“I don't understand the question,” she said in accented English. “Master caught me when I... arrived. He was looking for my escort.”

“I grew up in the area.” Fon admitted cheerfully. “Lovely place. I hated it.”

Fran spent a moment trying to decipher the non sequitor. He would have spoken up, but this was one of I Preceslti Sette. Contrary to the animal motif that seemed to have infiltrated his life, Fran knew what lay outside of a well. “Dotty, you never told us that your master was part of French Indochina.”

A flash of irritation crossed I-Pin's face. “I didn't know that either! And stop calling me Dotty!”

“I had no idea that I-Pin changed her name either,” Fon admitted. “It seems remiss that masters and students remain out of touch.”

“I didn't change my name, _shifu_!” I-Pin complained. “I mean, not deliberately!”

“This story I must hear,” Fon mused. “Go on.”

“There was...” I-Pin hesitated. “Well, I applied for that student visa to New York... you remember, right? That I had to get Ie-gēgē to help me with them? Well, Yāt-Tung is apparently hard to pronounce, so I let Ie-gēgē put down Dorothy as an alternate name.”

“ _Tongzi_ , Dorothy, Dotty- ah, I get it.” Fon nodded. “My mishaps with the authorities were at least restricted to Mandarin and Cantonese.”

Hanging from the canopy, Lichi squeaked, possibly dying from the heat of the Cambodian sun. It was technically the monsoon season, but the balmy heat was possibly worse for the white monkey than for his human companion. Fran idly wondered how Fon got it through customs. “So, how did I end up in this happy family?”

I-Pin silently elbowed him. “You were introduced to Grand-mère. Now quit talking.”

Fon considered the two of them. As an adult, it was believable that he was one of the seven strongest hitmen. “The two of you were very young, especially I-Pin. I admit that the choice of your caretakers was debatable, but I believe that the Sawada twins did a good job. A very good job.”

Here, Fon gave off an intense look. “I come back to the land of my childhood, find my student in the company of Rokudo Mukuro's disciple, and being watched over by the Piedmont Tank, whose last reported appearance was close to the Vendicare prison before my mother's body disappeared.”

“Lancia stole the body of Grand-mère?” I-Pin piped up, seeming as nervous as he felt. “We didn't... know?”

Fran checked his fingernails, the better to conceal his terror. If Lancia wasn't here... he glanced at I-Pin quietly. She was also fidgeting under the hardened stare of someone who seemed nice, until he did an about-face and suddenly resembled Hibari Kyoya.

“I-Pin,” Fon sighed. “I know that your Master has fallen somewhat out of touch, but I do suspect that you know what Serata Limited was up to when you accepted a scholarship from it.”

Fran considered the ramshackle houses along the Old French Quarter. It was better than considering his possible death here.

“But I don't know what you're talking about.” I-Pin insisted, trying not to panic. “I checked the company like you taught me, Master. They are as clean as could be possible.”

“Save that they bankrolled Lancia's trip up the Alps.” Fon leaned over. “What's going on with Serata?”

“I don't know,” I-Pin blinked, sweat staining her brow. “I cannot say. Otherwise-”

She stopped talking. The reason for why became immediately apparent when a garrotte tightened around Fon's throat and bodily hauled him out.

“Master!” I-Pin climbed out, followed by Fran.

As expected, a garotte was flimsy compared to Fon. The pair of identical amber-eyed brown-haired girls dressed in varied shades of green, though, posed slightly more of a problem. I-Pin started at the familiar sights.

“Kusa, Wakakusa-”

“Let's go!” Fran snapped, dragging I-Pin behind him as they dodged and weaved through the urban traffic of Siem Reap.

I-Pin followed behind, still stunned. “B- But-”

“He'll be fine, they're Karekusa's sisters,” Fran replied. “Serata is burned.”

“We could just explain to Master!” I-Pin hissed back as they dodged through an alleyway. “He would understand!”

Fran's lips thinned, losing all colour as the blood fled from his face. “He won't. Elmo would have to intervene.”

Blood drained from I-Pin's face at the mention of Elmo intervening. “S- She won't. Not if we just don't say anything. I still don't like to lie to him-”

“Do it anyway.” Having slowed to a standstill, Fran stared at her. “You know what is at stake. You cannot tell him. He would never understand.”

I-Pin gave a hiss of irritation, but relented. “Fine.”

Fran pulled out his gun. “Let's go.”

Back at the intersection, Fon was realising that, for all that the girls fell short at close combat, they more than made up for it with the electric cage that they maintained around him. Sniffing at the characteristic smell of ozone crackling as red and green Flame clashed, Fon scoffed, smoothly brushing aside the Lightning with his own Storm Flames and hitting out with a flurry of finger thrusts.

One girl in green screeched as she was consumed in the Flame and disappeared. Two halves of a clam clattered into the ground and was then scooped up by the other girl, who proceeded to turn tail. By the time Fon got to wiping the sweat from his eyes, the girls had vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone.

Walking quickly, he got back into the trailer and frowned at its emptiness. He turned to the driver, waving a Hamilton at the driver.

“Airport,” the eyes of the skylarks gazed sharply out, greyed with a coming storm. “Step on it.”

* * *

Aboard a private flight, the clam started blinking. “#EBF6F7 reports: #C3D825 has been destroyed.”

“Oh. Carry on recharging, then.”

Spanner considered the clam bathed in the weak sunlight from the airplane porthole. “Your prototype, Kœnig-san?”

“Not exactly,” Kœnig acknowledged. “My former personal concierge. Lorenzo assigned them to us after the attempt on Innocenti. Lightning-primary type. Their abilities fall short of the Big Seven or the Tridacna series, but they can still fight.”

“So, the strongest and most sentient of Box Weapons, and he just gave them to you.” Spanner echoed, cracking open a Thermos of hot water to prepare green tea.

“Not really, but he can afford to,” Kœnig leant back, stroking the shell with his thumb. “The Vongola dei Cieli is our Box weapon factory, printing out whatever schematics we inputted for testing. Under our dominant theory of Flames, it can make up to sixteen million, seven hundred and seventy-seven thousand, and two hundred and sixteen combinations.”

Spanner cursed as the hot water spilled onto his hands. “Sixteen million?!”

“Sixteen million?!” Tsuna echoed, still clutching his head in pain. Hibari's head lay on his lap, and the Cloud Guardian's squinting echoed his own pain. Kusakabe, and what few of the Foundation members still alive, were also tending to their own headaches. “As in, _million_?”

“Not all of them being combat-capable, and most boasting the processing capabilities of a smartphone,” Kœnig corrected. “A smartphone is a very good device, but none of them can really hold a candle to _her_.”

His hand, palm facing outwards, indicated Ōtan, who was seated across of Tsuna. “The Big Seven. Inbuilt multi-junction combat-grade Zooxanthellae cell, general model capabilities for independent agency, omni-sensor, modifications for Cambio Forma. The hitman's personal gentle-clam, which can be packed anywhere, and able to ship him anywhere in the world.”

Spanner turned new, appreciative eyes on Ōtan. “She is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”

“Thank you very much for the compliment.”

Looking at Ōtan, Tsuna felt a slight pang of panic at the very thought of what might happen if they discovered that the pretty girl in the orange sundress was not exactly human. Visions of laboratories were involved. “You were... built for war.”

“#FF4E20 was printed at the conclusion of the War.” Ōtan shook her head. “As such, #FF4E20 is not assembled with direct war capabilities, daemon units, or additional armour. However, #FF4E20 is the most effective communication specialist of the Rete Vongole at present.”

“So you were built to complete the series.” Spanner nodded. “A ship tethered to port, left without a purpose.”

“#FF4E20 considers the question.” Ōtan nodded, looking at Tsuna. “To be Sawada Tsunayoshi's staunchest ally. #FF4E20 was built for this purpose alone. So, if you wish, Boss, I will deliver you to Sicily to search for the other Guardians. If you wish to return to your own time to your friends, which is also fine.”

Tsuna mulled over it. Images of Elmo, Murasaki, and Ama kept popping up in his head. “I... Adult Lambo brought me to this time... to reveal Ie?”

“Yes.”

“Nobody except Hibari-san figured it out?” Tsuna was sceptical.

“The pineapple had suspicions.” Hibari growled, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Do I have children?” Tsuna asked.

“Eh?” Spanner blinked.

“If I had children... I think, Ie would protect my nephew,” Tsuna hesitantly volunteered. Lambo and I-Pin were still alive, after all.

“Such belief in your brother.” Kœnig commented. “Sawada Tsunayoshi did not. About six months after the Vongola-Millefiore War, the Vongola Decimo adopted a daughter. Amaya Asari; Asari is her surname, by the way.”

Tsuna considered it, ignoring the distinction of his name with the title of the Tenth. “After me, Ie would have become Boss. He could have adopted anyone he wanted... who is Asari Amaya?”

“Not _who,_ ” Kœnig corrected. “ _What_.”

“Boss.” Ōtan spoke up. “The name has been cross-referenced. It is currently locked from use, but Asari Amaya is currently registered as the default false identity created for the Rete Vongole units of the Vongola dei Cieli.”

“False identity?” Tsuna echoed.

“Yes.”

“...what does that mean?”

“In short, all of the units have, by default, the face of the daughter of the Vongola Decimo.” Ōtan paused. “Asari Amaya is also the only face that more than one of us are allowed to carry at the same time, without special permissions.”

“Because if you guys used a real person's face, you would be caught.” Spanner caught on.

“How does Asari Amaya look like?” Tsuna asked Ōtan, who pointed to herself.

“Like this.”

They all did look alike, thought Tsuna. “But why adopt her?”

“To create a spy within the Iron Fort,” Hibari grimly replied. “To take apart an alliance and a family thoroughly from within, more than one person is needed. So that, the say when the Vongola Decimo dissolves the Famiglia, there will be something already waiting to destroy those who try to revive it.”

Tsuna looked from Ōtan, to the clam sunbathing itself, to the fallen Gambero di Pioggia. “How powerful are they? How powerful are the Big Seven?”

* * *

There were a lot of things that could unite the guardians of the fallen Millefiore Famiglia. Unfortunately, a direct attack on the Castle of Bats, the Šišmiš Dvorac, was not included amongst that number.

“Ushesheshe, and it's not even Belphegor this time,” giggled a blond man at the castle grounds' main terrace. In the distance, the hood of a king cobra loomed. “Well, what's the strongest man in North Italy doing here?”

Striding before the cobra was a tall man, his thuggish face stretched with a smirk. “I am here on behalf of the Vongola. I cannot emphasise what a bad move you made three years ago when you sided with the Millefiore.”

“The king does not need your criticisms.” But Rasiel stopped smiling.

Lancia cast an eye about, resting on the butler Olgert, who had appeared at Rasiel's side once the carnage had started. “And yet you are harbouring Millefiore people behind the walls. Mucalinda.”

The king cobra hissed and spat a concentrated wad of Storm flames. The Flames clashed as a high-pitched sound echoed about, dissolving the wad.

“Ushesheshe, the king also has Box Weapons.” Rasiel toyed with an opened box in his ring-weighted hand. “ _I Pipistrelli Tempasta._ ”

Lancia sighed. “Murasaki.”

His words, unknown to Rasiel, was being fed through his earpiece to the internal quantum relay, to one of this world's best Box Weapons.

“ _Box Weapon design cross-reference: Lorenzini set #048,_ _Pipistrello_ _. Make and model registered as a Mark III under_ _Cascia_ _Manufacturing, a subsidiary of Lupara Bianca. Attribute: Storm, may be used with Sky Flames, modifications allow for Cloud, Mist, Rain. Current statistics: power C, intelligence B, speed B, stamina C. Abilities: absorption of Flames by biting, and disruptive sonar using the Disintegration effect of Storm Flames. Varying sizes indicate multiple Boxes in play. Deduction: main use of general searcher, and area-of-effect destruction by omnidirectional sonic attack._ ”

Murasaki considered the strings of multicoloured pearls around her wrist. “Suggested approach: surface-to-air repulsion with pinpoint firing. #4F284B will engage.”

“Let's go with that.” Lancia smirked, causing his opponents to regard him warily.

A spark of purple ignited on Murasaki's fingertip. “Sortie. Releasing aerial veligers. Deploy.”

In her other hand, she plucked three pearls off of her choker, selecting one in green, one in blue and one in indigo, which was close to dark blue. The purple fire ignited in her hands, before she flung them out and they blazed into Flames, transforming into giant shrikes that flew towards the castle.

Swarms of bats flew out to meet the passerine flock. They shrieked, causing waves of red to sweep across the battlements and walls.

The indigo one sparked with Flame and mist, multiple copies beginning to surround them to crash into the bulk of the bat swarm. As the high-pitched echo of the bats' concerto began again, the blue shrike grabbed one bat, dragging it down to impale it with extreme prejudice into a blackthorn tree. The green shrike twittered, attacking another bat with its claws and rendering it asunder in a shower of green sparks.

There was a shout of panic as the swarm of Storm Bats lay about the grounds of the castle, now turned into a battlefield. Murasaki simply stood and waited, until a green-haired man ran out of the door to the castle kitchens which she was besieging.

“What's going on?” Purple flames streaked through the air. The green shrike shrieked as it was pierced, a violet bellflower blooming on its corpse before it exploded.

Murasaki, seeing through the eyes of the shrike flock above and in her head, grimaced. “Millefiore weapons, Campanula di Nuvola. Attribute: Cloud. Abilities: piercing and absorption, middle range. Muzzle velocity estimated at 1030 metres per second. Millefiore Cloud Funeral Wreath, Kikyo.”

“Oh, what's this girl doing here?” A feminine voice pouted from above.

Murasaki leapt aside to dodge the rain of exploding shells. “Box Weapon design cross-reference. Millefiore weapons, Rain Sea Shells. Attribute: Rain. Formidable destructive power. Conclusion: Rain Funeral Wreath, Bluebell.”

Murasaki looked up. “Assessment revised. Not alone.”

“You'd better revise it, idjit!” The red-haired man who yelled at her dived down from the sky. The reason for his flight became apparent with the flaming boots on his feet.

“Storm Funeral Wreath, Zakuro.” Murasaki indicated with one hand, causing a blue shrike to defend her from a wave of red Flame. “Engaging three parties. Request permission to operate above 1 percent.”

“Granted.” Lancia dodged a punch and pulled a straight on Olgert's chest.

Murasaki raised both hands. “Arms Duplication.”

The man with Storm Flames crashed onto the ground, locked into a submission hold by six arms that materialised on his back. A second later, a thud of blue on the ground revealed that Bluebell had been similarly incapacitated. Only the Cloud Funeral Wreath had escaped, her materialised arms riddled with blooming bellflowers, wilting along his back before she dismissed them from hanging on his back.

“Mist? No, Cloud,” Kikyo's narrowed eyes glared at her. “Box of Carnage? No, there is no Box Animal that can do that.”

“#4F284B is far above those second-rate humans turned weapons.” Murasaki honestly replied, as she sprouted more arms along her right elbow, causing them to fan out like an Indian statue before she dismissed them. One more hand sprouted from Kikyo's wrist, knocking his Box Weapon out of his hand.

“You can duplicate any part of your body,” Kikyo nodded. “Power and speed mean nothing against you.”

Murasaki waved one hand. Zakuro's curses grew louder as he was folded backwards into half, the cracking of his spine growing louder as she walked towards him. Bending down, she watched his hands spasm in pain, plucking off the Mare Ring with the red stone once they had been reduced to fanning out.

Murasaki held it up, as the red colour began to die. “So much blood spilled for it, and then so much devoted to amassing power to wield it.”

“Zakuro, you idiot!” Bluebell cursed. “You got your Mare Ring taken!”

“Well then,” Murasaki coldly began as she pulled a combat knife that burned purple. The Cloud-Flame bearing knife cut through Zakuro's Flame aura, into his throat, and Murasaki bisected him pitilessly.

“The Vongola won!” Kikyo snarled back. “What more do you want?!”

“Is the answer not obvious?” Murasaki questioned. “Daisy, Ghost and Torikabuto are dead. Now, so is Zakuro.”

“They got Daisy...” Bluebell's face screwed up, but then smoothed over as she realised something. “Where's Byakuran? Byakuran is still alive?”

Murasaki stared at her. A shrug lifted her shoulder, the Mare Ring bobbing in her hand as she did so.

A muscle twitched in Kikyo's jaw. “If the Vongola is out to get the Mare Rings...”

“Secure the Mare Rings?” Murasaki echoed. “Why? We safeguard the Vongola.”

Bluebell, even with her spine being bent in half, stared in shock at Murasaki. “I don't understand.”

“Even if the world stands in our way, we will destroy the Millefiore Famiglia, who are the ones who killed members of the Vongola.” Murasaki patiently stated. “How do the Mare Rings feature?”

“Excuse me?!” Kikyo burst out. This incredulous mutant who could grow her arms on any surface was surprisingly dumb on the matters of the Tri-Ni-Sette. “They are the power to control the world! They are the rivals of the Vongola Rings! Whoever gathers them will rule the world! That's why Byakuran-sama wanted the Vongola Rings.”

“Tri-Ni-Sette: the Vongola Rings, the Mare Rings, and the Arcobaleno Pacifiers.” Murasaki considered. “If they were so powerful, how did the Millefiore lose the war?”

Kikyo swallowed. He looked uncertain. “The Arcobaleno survived. Somehow, no matter how we attacked, the Vongola never fell. Morale dipped, they had more weapons, we were sabotaged multiple times... there was nothing about alternate worlds here!”

“Kikyo!” Bluebell screeched. “Don't say anymore!”

Zakuro screamed as his spine broke. The arms wilted and disappeared, bursting with scattered purple Flames like flower petals as Murasaki next turned towards Bluebell. Shrikes descended to strike at Kikyo, prompting more Cloud Bellflowers.

“The Mare Rings are the ones who choose their bearers.” Bluebell confessed. “If you want to use them, you have to keep us alive.”

Murasaki considered that. “If we destroyed all of you, and with you the Mare Rings, then there is no other way to challenge the Vongola anymore?”

“Even if you destroy the world?!” Bluebell's knee-jerk reaction was one of panic.

The moral consequences of our actions are irrelevant to the mission.” Murasaki's blank expression belied the seriousness of the situation, as the Storm Mare Ring shattered in her hands. “The mission is to attack this castle and raze it to the ground. If the Gesso factions of the former Millefiore are present, #4F284B is to exterminate them, as they had tried to do to the Vongola. We are the vengeance of the Vongola.”

Bluebell's left hand tightened into fists, and she gave a snarl of defiance as Rain Flame surrounded her. The arms burned off of her back as she crawled, hampered by the arms still twisting the tail of her Box of Carnage form.

Murasaki considered her ashen face snarling, and then Bluebell's outstretched arm – and the Mare Ring twinkling on it.

Kikyo started as Murasaki ran, diving as Murasaki wielded the knife down. The snarl faded as Bluebell's arm lay stuck in the ground. Bluebell began screaming as her blood stained the ground, her spine gave under the pressure of multiple limbs bending her backwards away from the detached arm. The Rain Mare Ring's stone shattered under Murasaki's kitten heel just as the last of the shrike strafing run was destroyed.

Regarding her warily, Kikyo readied a few Cloud Bellflowers as Murasaki turned her awful, knowing amber gaze onto him.

“Perhaps this would make the situation _clear_.” Dispassionately, Murasaki kicked hard into the Rain Funeral Wreath's side, punctuating her sentences with a hard kick that drew blood and cracked bone.

“You will turn up, all of you, as the Vongola begins to disassemble itself. They will all slaughter you. Your reason for doing all of this, will be that you were ordered to. Just like how your Boss _ordered_ you to kill our family. Just like how Byakuran _ordered_ the Vongola Decimo to an audience, with the intention to kill him.”

Inside the castle, a green laser lit through walls of stone and bisected the buildings. Roofs, bricks of cut stone, windows of glass, began to fall to the ground.

“Razing complete.” A blue shrike and more of its fellows descended from overhead, causing Bluebell to scream as it tore the Box of Carnage from her chest. Murasaki's arms began to appear around her. “Engage.”

* * *

_**1 Judicial scrivener is a legal profession in Japan and South Korea. Judicial scriveners assist clients in commercial and real estate registration procedures and in the preparation of documents for litigation.** _


	38. Folio 37: Ars Moriendi

 

The Oxford-shod foot tapped on the floor of the arrivals hall. “ I hope they are alright.”

With a smile on her face, Elmo leant close to him. “They have cleared customs. Now it remains to secure their luggage.”

“I know. Thanks for the assurance, anyway.” The foot stopped. His right hand then decided to drum a tattoo on the arm of the multi-chair bench that he had secured on one end, with Elmo right next to him. “Gokudera's busy.”

“He has a call.” Elmo frowned, her eyes rolling in her skull. “From his father. Since Bianchi is gone, it seems like, I quote directly, Gokudera feels that his father 'was bound to acknowledge his bastard son' and, again quote, Gokudera-san 'wants nothing of it'.”

The brown-haired man in the suit looked at her. He stared across the arrivals hall, where a silver head was bent down, talking, presumably, into a cellphone. “How are you... listening?”

“Cellphone signal. Easy to hack. Ōtan would have found it even easier.”

“Hmm.” The man settled down, studying the glass panels that separated the waiting area from the arrivals hall. The usual crowd of an international airport milled about, some carrying indicator cards for whoever they were waiting for, and more than one tour group. “You know what _else_ would have been easier? If Yamamoto and Sasagawa had just accepted the jet.”

“In that we are in agreement, though I believe they wanted to keep a lower profile.” Elmo quietly said. “I did volunteer my suggested plan.”

The man rolled his eyes. “It was a _suggested_ plan. Delaying them to miss their flight is not something that merits deploying two Mist-primary units to distract them by any means necessary up to slight maiming. In fact, it would be counter-productive if they discovered you girls.”

“Yes, Papa.” Elmo paused. “You have a dinner appointment with Master Verde. Where?”

“Sichuan. There's this Chengdu restaurant, Qin Shan Zhai. Master Verde works so much, he needs some medicinal soup.”

“What about the time difference?”

“Time-” the other sighed. “I forgot. There's that  _trattoria_... Koyo's place in Enna? The fusion cuisine one?”

“Sending choice to #E4DC8A. Approval received, appointment fixed. Is there anything else?”

“Is Skull-san doing alright?”

“His revival tour went quite smoothly.” Elmo replied without missing a beat. “If you wish, I will dispatch another unit to welcome him.”

“No, he said he'll take a plane. The Arcobaleno are all coming in, and he doesn't want to be caught out by Mammon-san.”

Elmo considered the statement. “I believe Mammon to require elimination.”

“Mammon-san will keep quiet for however long she values money over her life.” The other corrected. “Besides, the Tri-Ni-Sette was bad to her as well. I would prefer to defer that judgement to Skull-san, Amaya.”

Elmo peered around. “Papa, I do not think this is a smart course.”

“No, she won't say anything yet.” The brown-haired man considered. “You're sure that Checker Face will appear at the Commission gathering?”

“The mitochondrial genetic marker that we isolated from the sample Papa obtained and matched with the living man indicated as such.” Elmo reported quietly. “Not to mention, this is the largest group of Mafia gathering since the fall of the Millefiore. The man would like to know of the Mare and Vongola Rings. Under these conditions, he is likely to appear, though the event occurrence cannot be ascertained even from Helene.”

“Got it. Tell your sister to keep an eye on that marker.” The brown-haired man yawned slightly. “Speaking of which, I need to find a present for the two of you.”

“Rewards are not needed for doing our jobs, Papa.”

The man sighed. “You're still my good girls. Efficient, purposeful, obedient. Too obedient,” he added quietly under his breath. “Midori's purpose places us at opposites, and Ōtan cannot disobey. She will keep him safe, though. But it must hurt you, to hunt your siblings like this now.”

“The Big Seven were created to serve only the seven Guardians.” Her words were blunt, if spoken quietly. “We will need to reconsider priorities to change their behavioural functions.”

She considered him. “A nap would seem more refreshing to you.”

“I don't need a nap. Amaya,” he added.

“Physiologically speaking.” Elmo corrected. “A power nap would, however, work as a de-fragmentation to decide about the Big Seven.”

“We are in the middle of an airport,” the creator of the world's most extreme Box Weapons reasoned, ignoring her comparison to a computer.

Elmo stood up. She moved to her left, that left one chair between them. She looked towards a woman laid out on another of the benches covered in jackets to keep warm, and then she sat down with two expectant slaps on her thighs.

“I am here with you.”

“...seriously? No.”

Gokudera finally hung up, storming back to them. “Ah- Amaya-san? The Tenth is sleeping on your lap...”

“Yes. Papa was apparently so excited about Sasagawa-san and Yamamoto-san, he couldn't sleep until very late last night.”

“Damn them for troubling the Tenth in his dreams!” The cigarette that Gokudera held, despite the prominent No-Smoking sign on the far wall, gleamed the scarlet of a Storm Flame. “Tenth...”

“Are you troubled, Gokudera-san?”

“It's nothing, Amaya-san.” The silver-haired man fingered the cigarette, taking a drag from it. “It's... my sister. Poison Scorpion Bianchi, master of Poison Cooking.”

“Oh?”

“She disappeared a year ago.” Gokudera contemplated the smoke trail from his cigarette. “And now, the old man's calling me back to take over the Famiglia, since he doesn't have a _legal_ heir. Che, I'm an embarrassment to him but he comes to me only when this thing happens?! I will serve the Tenth!”

“But... Papa won't be the Tenth after the sixth,” Amaya pointed out innocently.

Gokudera deflated. “...He retired for you, you know. After losing his father, mother and brother, I guess the Tenth wanted you away from us made men. He made his bones quite well, I heard. Almost no witnesses.”

Elmo knew. She had been told when Sawada Iemitsu became a witness to his son officially making his bones, and had even witnessed it herself while connecting points through time. It had been a very large factor towards Papa's assassinations of the Vongola old guard – clearing the path when Sawada Tsunayoshi could become a civilian again without the threat of exposure.

“But he loves you, you know.” Gokudera paused. “Well, not, romantically, because of the adoption and all, but... I appreciate that Amaya-san was willing to be adopted even at your age. You saved the Tenth from...”

“Is there anything wrong with my age?” Elmo enquired.

Papa and her had discussed ways to infiltrate the Vongola, up to marrying into the Family. They had determined that button-men were less likely to pay attention to an adopted daughter compared to a girlfriend. The very complicated situation about Hibari Kyoya also meant that girlfriends were simply highlighting the suspicious skylark to investigate Asari Amaya's shaky background some more.

 _Should I have been younger,_ thought Elmo.  _Or older?_ _And should I kill him now?_ _Not possible; directive against unnecessary harm._ She considered the protocols set up, and selected one that looked plausible.

“Gokudera-san, I am offended! Are you saying that I'm old?” Eyes tear up. “That the Decimo's ward looks old?!”

“No, no, no, no, not at all!”

“Shh, you'll wake him up!”

* * *

“But this would put the information out of our hands,” Ietsuna found himself explaining to an adult Verde, a very intimidating German, and another person. Why was he doing this? Wait, he was supposed to be at the airport. A lap pillow. And... a nap.

Oh.

“Information would get out no matter what.” Kœnig volunteered. “Brat, you might have secured manufacturing facilities, but it'd be much easier to just sell the plans for the Box Animals.”

“Box Weapons are easily developed, as are support Boxes,” Ietsuna spoke from memory. “But Box Animals are more complex, but pay off with exponentially more power. If Verde-sensei had issue with one hitman, we're talking about a hitman with a mobile weapon. It's easy to sucker-punch opponents in combat with a Box Animal.”

“From what I understand, though,” the third member spoke, narrowing his green eyes, “most Box Animals can really only do one thing. And that one thing is sometimes fairly useless.”

“I am sure,”Ietsuna repeated from memory, “one day, you'll be surprised how that one thing would save you, Innocenti-san.”

Innocenti smiled, right as he stood at the centre of the cathedral, surrounded by the wide stained windows and the ominous iridescent arches of the place. “This success would give you happiness. I'd do anything for that.” And he jumped right as the cathedral was being sucked into a spiral of colour-

* * *

In the present, Irie Shoichi considered the light lunch that had, inexplicably, ended up at his elbow. An  _insalata di arance_ of segmented blood orange, sliced bulb fennel and olive oil arranged like a flower. Minestrone soup with  _gemelli_  pasta, made thick and dense in the Trapanese style as the main dish. A stack of  _cannoli_  to finish the midday meal, along with a large mug of black coffee, sugar and milk at the side. It was very ordinary, for a meal in the Mezzogiorno.

“Yamabuki. When did this appear?” Shoichi considered the apparently harmless food. “Who made it?”

“#2CA9E1 and #A22041 returned at the same time with Miss I-Pin and Monsieur Fran, replies #F8B500. #2CA9E1 was on hand to stop #A22041 from poisoning Irie-sama. They prepared a light lunch and left it with #F8B500, with explicit instructions to see that Irie-sama ate something. #F8B500 regretfully adds, the galley was out of  _Conchiglie_  pasta.”

Shoichi started on the simple salad, which he realised was not dressed with simply oil but rather a vinaigrette. The salad gone, he resolved himself to the minestrone. “I don't mind. I'd rather not accidentally eat one of the units again.”

“Yes, #F9B500 agrees. It would seem that #2CA9E1 agrees with your assessment after the incident with #F1BF99.”

Irie set down the emptied bowl, accepting a serviette which Yamabuki handed to him gingerly. His hands shook at the mention of the twinned units. “I did not mean to eat them.”

“It was the fault of #A22041 for preparing #F1BF99 in the shared galley instead of the armoury, corrects #F8B500.” A slight pause. “Thankfully, the Administrator was on hand to remove them, otherwise they would have had to risk either passing through the human digestive tract or making like Vatapi and Ilvala.”

Shoichi looked to the stack of cannoli. It was very nice cannoli, he was sure, but his appetite had deserted him at the mention of something coming out through his stomach to tear him apart from within. “Yeah. Sure.”

A few seconds passed before he collected his thoughts. “Who on earth thought up that design feature?”

“It was a prototype designed in the Falsa Vongole.” Yamabuki sounded uninterested as she consulted the screens on the electronic console where Shoichi and his lunch were parked by. “The idea originated from Señor Innocenti, but Maestro made it possible. They worked together on it.”

Shoichi looked at her. “How do you know?”

“The memory records from #4F284B indicates as such. #F8B500 has not met the Señor prior to his suicide, replies #F8B500.”

Shoichi shook his head. “It was  _not_ suicide.”

He stood up quietly, walking out.

Immediately, Yamabuki tagged along behind, and the pair of them in yellow walked out of Shoichi's lab to the cathedral-like space. Part of the floor in the centre platform had sunken down, flooding the pool at the centre with a pale liquid like milk, which glimmered and flowed in glass pipes under Shoichi's feet and through the floor. As Shoichi looked at the floor, sparks of colour marked out spheres of colour contained within, which on a closer look either resembled floating pearls, or fish eggs, depending on how one considered things that were machines and barely close to organic life.

“If Irie-sama is disturbed, #F8B500 apologises. However, the memory records from the Administrator, #4F284B and #FFFFFF indicates that Señor Innocenti voluntarily killed himself.”

Irie looked at her, and then to a console mounted onto the wall. He looked around; they were alone in this empty, undefined space where organic and electronic structures seemed to mesh perfectly as he typed a line of command and pressed a key. The cathedral's windows shone in red, blue and green to compose white light, a seemingly solid pillar at the cathedral's heart.

“We were testing an idea,” Irie began. “A revolutionary idea, you see. I was undercover in the Millefiore, I didn't get involved so much in it... but I knew the theory. The basis was that Flames could contain memories, and that those memories of the dead would continue to animate devices. But the problem with using memories was that there was a risk of the unit rebelling.”

Irie swallowed. “We needed Flames, concentrated Flames, but we couldn't have the memories of the people attached. It was an idea against humanity, but in the company of mad scientists, ethics mean very little. Lorenzo... _Ietsuna_ would have been stuck there, if he never figured it out. Then the Vongola dei Cieli's other units would have functioned more like Elmo and the Kusa sisters, rather than like Murasaki and you, Yamabuki.”

The light composition changed, and the pool of blue bubbled before the pillar collapsed into the ripples. The cathedral flooded with colour, which shifted from a rainbow to a shade of brilliant gold before it winked out.

A single pearl floated up, shining with aureate light. Irie scooped it up and cracked it on the solid floor, watching as the nacre shell broke to reveal the golden clam nestled within his palm.

“As a 3D printer, the Vongola dei Cieli guaranteed the lives of the scientists who created it.” Irie bit his lips. “As a weapon... it could barely think. There was so much untapped power, but it needed intelligence to harness. The very same intelligence that Murasaki showed when she took on the Melone Base alone and won.”

“Correction, Irie-sama. #4F284B was in war sortie and had all her daemon units-”

“Yes, but her deployment was spectacular. Flawed, but spectacular.” Irie shook his head. “Results like Murasaki's were one in a million. No AI composed by humans right now would have made her. In order to prove the theory that people's Flames could be stored and funnelled into the units, Ietsuna needed results like that. Innocenti had a thought. If the already dead could be used, why not the living?”

Shoichi drew a shaking breath. “There was something wrong with Innocenti-san since Ietsuna-san saved him, you- well, you wouldn't know, Elmo and Murasaki might. The thing is, they were friends, you know. They became very good friends. You know, the thing about meeting a fellow genius, who gets the bit about integrating art and technology and all that. They shared the same vision.”

He called us all here, stood at the edge of this pool, and jumped in to let the veligers feed on himself. His Flames left his body, nestling in the Murrina materials, and formed into a yellow pearl, shining like the sun.”

He shuddered. “It worked. We created a second unit on par with Murasaki.”

“#F8B500 will endeavour to be worthy of the efforts the Masters placed on our creation-” Amber eyes sharpened, and Shoichi flinched as a bullet imploded in mid-air with a flick of yellow flame. “It appears that Irie-sama has accidentally imparted classified information to #F8B500. A cease and desist request has been sent to the Administrator.”

“Don't you get it?” He rounded on her. “All of you- aren't you curious about your origins?”

Yamabuki considered. “It does not matter to us.”

Shoichi's lips thinned. “I just told you that a dead man's Flames was used to make you.”

“#F8B500 does not have any aversion to human decomposition or other moral hangups with regards to the concept of humanity, being a machine. In light of dangers posed to Irie-sama, #F8B500 must wipe her memory files. Retroactively, it is recognised that Irie-sama was trying out the human ritual of confession. Analysing, it is deduced that Irie-sama hopes to sway me to his cause.”

Yamabuki's head tilted, as another spark of yellow deflected a bullet pelting at Shoichi. “My origins do not matter. Your confession, Irie-sama, has been accepted. But I am sorry. I must wipe it now, and forget, lest the Administrator targets you again. Irie-sama, why are you crying?”

“Elmo isn't here, so how is she listening?!” Shoichi's mask cracked as his eyes squeezed. “I'm sorry, Yamabuki.”

A vacant smile. “Memory deleted.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Irie-sama, what are you doing with that promoted unit? It needs to be incubated. Why are you crying?”

Numbly, Shoichi dropped the gold shell into her hand, looking at her empty smile and the light that just partially shone in her eyes as her memory was gone, deleted. “Salt water in the eye. Nothing. Let's take care of the new unit.”

* * *

Glass shattered. The man sat up.

He blinked, staring as the bandaged fist of Sasagawa Ryohei loomed before him, inevitably flying towards him. “Extremely bad!!!”

The man's eyes flicked about in that split second. Behind Ryohei was Lambo's grimacing visage, and a red-dressed air stewardess with two bottles of wine in her hands like two clubs.

About to advance upon them was- Yamamoto, who was not smiling.

 _Oh no_. “Get her away.”

Elmo's finger flicked.

Behind Ryohei, Yamamoto might have blinked as the air-stewardess disappeared in mid-air from braining Lambo with an excellent Etna Rosso. He did not manage to complete the blink, because Ryohei was tossed onto him, and it was hard to notice when he had just been used as a cushion.

“Yamamoto! Onii-san!” The brown-haired man stood up from the chair, having just tossed aside the Vongola's current Sun Guardian back. “Welcome back!”

“Baseball idiot! Turf-top!” Gokudera barked, arms crossed. “How dare you attack the Tenth and Amaya-san! Do you want me to blow you up!”

“Ha, sorry, but there was a stewardess after Lambo.” Yamamoto chuckled. “Yo, Tsuna. Sorry I'm late, but I had to figure out what to get for the old man.”

“Tsuyoshi-san will be glad to see you,” the other smiled. “We're all beginners at knife work, you know.”

“Yamamoto-san,” Amaya bowed formally. “Sasagawa-san. Bovino-san. Welcome back.”

“Amaya!” Ryohei cheered. “You look extremely wonderful!”

Watching his sunny smile, Elmo smiled neutrally. She did not need a Mist unit to read his mind, to catch the flash of pain in his face. Asari Amaya resembled Sasagawa Kyoko a little too well to save him from the guilt about his sister. “I will take that compliment to heart.”

The smile had the added effect of making Lambo jump and duck behind the older Guardians. “A- Amaya-san!”

“Shall we depart? A car awaits us.”

“You know, we spotted Aoba in coach,” Ryohei mentioned once the black car was rolling on the highway from the airport. The seating was arranged that Lambo was sandwiched between Yamamoto and Ryohei in the back seat. “I wanted to say hello, but...”

A small, but no less painful punch landed on his shoulder. “I understand,” said the brown-haired man, who had thrown the punch as he slid back into the driver's seat. “They helped us during the war too. But after Enma's parents were held hostage, it's clear that Vongola cannot give them the protection that they deserve, if they remain in the underworld. That is why we are doing this. So that next year, we'll all be able to enter the Koshien stadium.”

Yamamoto blinked, eyeing the roof of the car. There might be something in his eye. “Eh?”

The driver sighed. “The Vongola operates by partible inheritance, you know. Timoteo-jiisan, though, did not want the family to be split between two Bosses, even though Ie deserved his share of it. Ie got Grandpa's trust in Siena instead, but... he died, and I got it. Multiplied, since Ie is better with numbers.”

There was a sniff. “I would trade all of that and more for you guys to be safe.”

“Tsuna, perhaps you should stop here and let me drive.” Yamamoto offered. “And, Dad made me bring some  _himejako_. Eat sushi and feel better...?”

At the rear-view mirror, Elmo met Lambo's green eyes. The Lightning Guardian looked away as the car stopped on the road shoulder, hazard lights blinking as there was a switch in places and Lambo ended up sitting next to the guy who had built the current Lambo Bovino.

“Do you have to be civilians to go to Koshien?” Lambo asked him.

“Yes. And more,” replied the brown-haired man with the mask of Vongola Decimo. “There is nothing stopping you from joining us.”

“B- Besides,” Ryohei commented with forced cheer, “Sawada Ietsuna would have started plenty of wars for everything you had! He's that type of ambitious guy. Lucky that your dad chose you instead, Sawada! Never trusted him. Hibari and Rokudo probably agree with me too.”

Lambo bit his lip, worrying it for the nth time in the ten years his fate had been tied to the Vongola. “Lies are not the way to go about this,” whispered the Lightning.

Eyes of gold met green. “They are the only way for me.”


	39. Folio 38: Stucco

 

Tsuna looked at the outfit that had been laid out for him: a white button-down shirt, brown pleated skirt, and a jacket in burnt orange. Under the wan light in the handicapped toilet, he sighed. “Really?”

“Since #FF4E20 was never assigned a user, #FF4E20 did not have the chance to create false identities for Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. #FF4E20 is using the Rete Vongole's stash of false identities instead. This is made more convenient since we are all female and share identical height, weight and associated physical features as a standard generic human model. Aside from using these identities, there is no way to hack the international database and create a male identity with the falsified biometric data files required to fool the Administrator on top of customs,” Ōtan responded distractedly as she was busy using her orange flames to create two incredibly authentic-looking passports. Traces of indigo sparked here and there, forcing the shape into more coherence to stand up to examination.

It wasn’t as if Tsuna was offended at the thought of donning female clothing, given his cross-dressing tendencies. It was just plain _weird_ that he needed to look like a girl in order to bypass Elmo’s facial recognition. Especially since he was trying to dress like a female clone of himself.

He plunked the clothes onto a ledge of the toilet, blushing as he turned his back. “Please don't look at me.”

“#FF4E20 does not understand. My real body lacks eyes to discern shapes to begin with.”

“It’s polite to turn around when someone else is changing in front of you.”

“Is this because you think I am a girl?” Ōtan inquired. Before Tsuna’s eyes, her form rippled and changed. “And now I am a boy.”

Tsuna looked up, scowling as his exact male self now stood there with a clam on his palm. “Quit wearing my face!”

The features softened until Ōtan was visibly female once more. “The Vongola dei Cieli made us of the Rete Vongole like itself. Clams are, by nature, hermaphroditic.”

Tsuna blushed as he fixed the padding and small bra onto his chest before buttoning up the shirt, concentrating too much to comment on Ōtan's staring. “So, why do you all wear a girl's face?”

“Maestro had a need for agents who could pass as human, and especially agents who could create an alibi for him.” Ōtan said after a moment of silence. “Females are calculated more likely to garner positive attention and be underestimated more than males.”

Tsuna grimaced, considering his sneakers and the bared legs leading up too the skirt he was wearing. “That makes sense. Unfortunately.”

Kusakabe blinked once, slowly, once Tsuna got out of the bathroom, his clothes hidden in a small carry bag. “Erm... your hair grew,” he noted the longer bangs framing Tsuna's face.

“Ōtan turned into a hair extension.” Tsuna pointed to the orange clam-shaped hair-clip perched on his spiky nest of a haircut right above his seemingly extended bangs. “Facial recognition.”

“That makes sense.” Kusakabe paused. “I guess Kyo-san got all the measurements right still.”

Tsuna fidgeted. “Mukuro and Chrome...”

“Yes, Sawada-san. Follow me.”

Tsuna concentrated so much on following Kusakabe through the arrivals hall, he barely noticed anything. It was really in a semi-deserted hallway that Tsuna Hyper Intuition pricked.

“Kusakabe-san. That janitor is staring.”

The uniformed cleaner in question kept blinking, his eyes switching from Ōtan to Tsuna to Kusakabe and repeating the cycle. Suddenly, a small smile broke out on his weather-beaten face. He placed his hands, palms and fingertips together straight to bow to Tsuna.

“ _Kankaunggparhcay, kaunggkain tamaansai._ ”

“Translator: Burmese language detected.” Ōtan imparted as the tanned old man left. “'Good luck, angel.'”

All good feelings from the muggy warmth of Cambodia's climate turned abruptly cold. There was a thud, and Tsuna realised that he had dropped his bag.

“Who was that?!”

Tsuna turned on one heel and started running.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Tsuna heard those words as he ran into the private terminal.

“If you like, I can dig out your eyes right now.” Hibari offered to Mukuro, who had quipped upon sighting the loner Cloud in the private hangar of Siem Reap International Airport. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a grown Fon standing behind the two pineapples, but he was distracted as Tsuna ran to him and hid.

Fon started. “Kyoya.”

“...mph.”

“W- We received the message, but... B- Boss...” Chrome trailed off, staring at the people next to Hibari. “From...”

“Chrome!” Tsuna broke out from next to Hibari to greet Chrome. “I'm so glad to see you!”

“Boss...” Chrome whispered, her lone blue eye widening slightly. “And... young...”

“The Bovino Ten-Year Bazooka.” Mukuro leered, looking just like Tsuna remembered from ten years ago. It was a half-hearted attempt, though. Mukuro wore a haunted expression, as if there was some deep secret weighing on his soul.

“It's to get through customs,” Tsuna explained, waving at himself and then at Ōtan. “Long story. This is-”

Fon's eyes locked onto Ōtan. “You!”

Tsuna's jaw abruptly clicked shut as Fon attacked his orange-dressed copy. “Fon-san?!”

“This girl, or at least her face, is involved with Serata Travel.” Fon growled. “Two years ago, I-Pin dropped off the map, and I find her working with Serata Travel for some sinister reason. She is dangerous, Tsunayoshi-kun.”

“Fon-san, she's not the enemy!” Tsuna cried out, physically placing himself between them. “There is more than one person with her face.”

“I know,” Fon sharply rebutted. “Two of them attacked me with Lightning Flames this afternoon. I killed one of them, but the other retreated.”

“Lightning Flames... Ōtan, could it be your sisters?” Tsuna turned to the living weapon.

“#FF4E20 cannot access the Rete Vongole's status updates. #FF4E20 cannot confirm at present.” Ōtan was unblinking in her relation of the facts. “Lightning Flames are the most ubiquitous Flame type of the Rete Vongole, due to the need for solidifying Flame-composed bodies amongst all units.”

Fon's confusion evident, Hibari took the time to brief the Kokuyo Gang and the Arcobaleno outside of the currently refuelling Lear jet in the private terminal.

“Ietsuna is alive.” Fon had a blank look on his face. “And he created... sentient Box Weapons.”

“Oh, right, a janitor said 'Good luck, angel' to us in Burmese just now.” Kusakabe quickly reported to a sour-faced Hibari.

“A Burman in Cambodia... that greeted a teleporting living Box Weapon that took them away from the war-zones of Myanmar as their deliverance.” Mukuro turned to Fon. “If the teleporter is part of Ietsuna's retinue, that explains why your apprentice was involved. She's translating.”

Lichi leapt about, sniffing at the hem of Ōtan's dress before cheerfully climbing onto Ōtan's back.

“That explains some things. Serata Travel is an undercover smuggling way,” Mukuro concluded.

“Huh?” Tsuna blinked. “How?”

“I will explain once we are out of this part of the world, Sawada Tsunayoshi.” Mukuro glared as the doors of the Lear jet creaked open, and another white-dressed brown-haired girl started climbing down the gangway with a blond German scientist. “First, though, explain why Kœnig is here. There is much we have to catch up on.”

“We should leave, reports #FF4E20. Extra Flame signatures have been detected.”

“Extra Flame signatures?” Tsuna echoed Ōtan's words as the brown-haired girl turned towards the terminal's entrance. Since it was around three am in Cambodia now, Tsuna was thus perfectly able to see the streaks of colour across the night skies over Siem Reap, headed directly towards them.

* * *

“I don't remember besieging a castle being this easy,” Lancia commented amidst the semi-standing rubble. Having been wrecked by a combination of attacks both mundane and almost-mystical in nature, it was a wonder that the Šišmiš Dvorac was even standing.

“It would not be simple were it not for Signora's attack,” Murasaki clarified, her pearls glowing around her throat. The brown-haired clone surrounded by a flock of multi-coloured birds observed the surroundings. “Where is Rasiel, asks #4F284B?”

“He escaped while I was occupied with his butler,” Lancia replied as part of the rubble imploded.

Murasaki observed the dark-armoured man that arose. “Box Weapon classification. Box Weapon design cross-reference: Kœnig armour, Armatura series, Nebbia. Attribute: Mist. Current statistics: outfit #2, Nebbia Numero Due. Abilities: close-range combat.”

Then came a pause. “Box Animal detected on radar. Box Weapon design cross-reference: Lorenzini set #036, Nudibranchi. Make and model registered as a Mark II. Attribute: Mist. Size: 8 millimetres. Current statistics: power B, intelligence B, speed A, stamina A. Abilities: fusion with illusions, guided incendiary components. Deduction: sneak attacks under guise of close-range combat. Solution: saturation attack. Further deduction: Genkishi, false Mist Guardian.”

“False-?” Genkishi smirked as he drew a giant double-edged broadsword, its hilt curving on his gauntlet. “You must have made a mistake. I am Genkishi of the Millefiore. That woman was barely a fly, but you... your eyes... are very much like that person. Since you know what are my weapons-”

“Mucalinda!” Lancia roared.

The hood of a giant king cobra burned crimson as what Lancia had been waiting for flew down; with the silhouette of Kurokawa Hana at their nexus, lines of bright, sickly green light shot out in all directions. They barely wavered like lightning, but they were _light;_ beams or particles of light that were currently wrecking havoc on the multitudes of tiny Mist Sea Slugs that were previously invisible.

Under the makeshift umbrella of the giant red king cobra, Murasaki barely flinched as the Phantom Knight, traitor of the Giglio Nero Famiglia, was brutally riddled through. Above them, from the dark sky rained a hail of triangular chips, still smoking hot from diffusing light that was hot enough to refine alcohol.

Genkishi shuddered. “What? That woman's beam attacks... I thought... Storm... how to focus?”

”My aim was always to bring down the house.” Hana sniffed, striding across the ruined castle grounds to stand under the king cobra's hood and next to Lancia. “I never lied about my Flame. I just never said anything.”

Standing above his head, Murasaki smiled as she raised her left foot, still wearing the kitten heel as she perched it on Genkishi's forehead. “Cascia Manufacturing is proud to present the Serie Mitologia. Today, you have seen a demonstration of the Mucalinda di Tempesta, the Storm Nagaraj, and the Gorgone del Fulmine, the Lightning Gorgon. We dearly hope you regret crossing Cascia and its parent company Lupara Bianca, where we make all enemies disappear.”

The foot went down.

Hana turned her head as the drop-kick resounded in the night. “Is that necessary?”

“Given that three out of the six important personnel holed up here is gone, yes, #4F284B apologetically informs the Signora.” Murasaki bowed. “#4F284B also notes that Signora Lancia has become much more proficient with the Gorgone.”

Hana's finger traced the amulet hanging around her neck, which bore a carved relief of a snake-haired head upon the cabochon. “You think so, Murasaki? I don't get it.”

“The Gorgone was made a complement to the Mucalinda, which is the most protective destruction that disintegrated all the beams that would have otherwise vaporised Signor Lancia and #4F284B. Maestro designed it with Signor and Signora in mind.”

“For us?” Hana echoed with Lancia.

“A wedding gift, replies #4F284B.”

Lancia started whistling badly. Hana coughed, looking about the rubble and smoothing out her pencil skirt. “W- What happened to the Millefiore, anyway?” she coughed.

“Kikyo was able to escape with Bluebell once he figured out that this body is composed of Flame.” Murasaki's reply was bland. “Zakuro and Bluebell had been slain earlier by #4F284B, and the Storm and Rain Mare Rings crushed.”

“I took out Rasiel's Storm Mare Ring as well,” Lancia said, looking doubtfully at Genkishi, who seemed strangely vulnerable without the full-plate armour and swords that have been placed back in its Box packaging. “We'll need to bring him back?”

“Yes. Corpses they may be, but there is established evidence that their leftover Flames may be able to help Maestro. Maestro will debrief you after Signor and Signora have returned and attended to yourselves, following his appointment. Shall we depart?”

The departure went unremembered, but the arrival was indeed, stranger than Lancia recalled.

“Signor, Signora,” Yamabuki perched atop a shallow jetty in the middle of a large pool, a giant fishing net in her hands. “Try not to fall in.”

“What are you doing, asks #4F284B for explication from #F8B500?”

“I'm culturing the  _soldati_.” Yamabuki indicated. “Like them.”

“Right...” Hana stepped away from the pool, which upon inspection did contain numerous clam veligers, and a few juvenile clams at the bottom. “Is I-Pin back?”

“Miss I-Pin and Monsieur Fran are occupied with the Leone Nero di Cieli, the Cervo del Fulmine, the Corvo di Tempesta, and the Ape del Sole.”

“All four prototypes?!” Hana's brow, which had been climbing with every name mentioned, threatened to jump off of her face.

“Indeed, Signora.” Yamabuki paused. “#F8B500 has received a ping from Oodako-sama. Master Skull has been roped into the impromptu safari as bait.”

“Lancia, I need your help.”

Yamabuki regally, silently bowed with great formality as the two left quickly. A splash of red interrupted the blue. Without turning around, Yamabuki immediately jabbed the bag-less end of the fishing scoop into the side of a red-dressed clone of herself, lowering her own net into the watery pool to scoop out the red. “No flames.”

The red-dressed clone pouted. “It'll be nice to have more sisters, #A22041 complains to #F8B500. At least #A22041 won't get bullied all the time.”

Another jab, this time from the blue-dressed clone. “Put some back into it, #2CA9E1 tells #A22041.”

“Onee-sama! Yamabuki and Ama are poking Shinku!”

Murasaki stared at the complaining unit. “#A22041. You cannot feel pain. In fact, #4F284B cannot help but wonder why you insist on performing this act when Maestro is not even around to indulge you.”

“This is not an act brought about by sub-processing routines, but Shinku's foray into becoming human, insists #A22041.”

“So by your reasoning, humanity can be quantified as cooking, cleaning and other assorted activities associated with feminine activities of the wifely sort, reasons #4F284B.”

Shinku nodded, smiling. The smile dropped when Murasaki swung one hand into her torso, Cloud Flame cutting through her red sundress and body of Flames, tearing out a red seashell from within.

“#A22041, this is your real body.” Murasaki dropped the shell onto the other's palm. “#4F284B continues her scolding: allowing your event-predictive programming to veer too much towards the positive is counter-productive. Keep that in mind, Shinku, because your master does not need unrealisable dreams. You will need to serve through troubles and fortunes alike.”

Shinku stared at the shell. Her lower lip wobbled.

“The inverted Pygmalion plot would work better if the cooking improved,” Ama observed.

If computer programs could feel drama, they would have felt the tension break when Shinku turned towards Ama, lowered her hands into the pool, and splashed the contents at her. “Burn this!”

“#F8B500, asks #4F284B,” Murasaki frowned, sidestepping a small spill of blue liquid. “Do you think our sisters, fourth and fifth of the Big Seven, remember that they are handling concentrated Rain Flames?”

“It might have escaped their RAM at the moment. Make sure they don't suffer from the time dilation effects.” Murasaki frowned. “#F8B500, replenishment of supplies.”

“This is a good one.” Yamabuki produced a gold clam. “Twinned unit #E6B422, Konjiki and Kogane. Irie-sama metamorphosed them just today. Other than that, we haven't promoted any yet.”

“A Sun unit?” Murasaki considered. “But they are incompatible with assault missions.”

“If you can conduct triage and first aid, that's useful, #F8B500 informs #4F284B.”

“Thank you.” Murasaki accepted the gold pearl, placing it on her bracelet with the others. “#F8B500... no. Yamabuki, #4F284B needs one more favour. The location of #FF4E20.”

“#F8B500 will get it.” Yamabuki's face blanked. “#F8B500 will not be able to hide this from the Administrator. You will be reprogrammed when you are caught.”

Murasaki's face twitched. “...#4F284B will try. Thank you, sister.”

“Tears will not help you.”

“We are not made to cry.” But Murasaki's face still twitched.

Yamabuki smiled. “Good luck, sister.”

* * *

Across Europe, another man was in the midst of departing his house. The curtsy of Asari Amaya, while old-fashioned, was executed with the technical precision of a machine.

“Yamamoto-san and Sasagawa-san are sleeping off the jet lag. Papa, will you be going to dinner now?”

“I have an appointment.” A pair of inky cuff-links were inserted into their buttonholes as he spoke. “I'll leave Lambo to you. If he gets to Yamamoto or Sasagawa, fall back.”

“As you wish. Amaya will keep in contact via daemon unit #27221F. Would Papa bring a mask along? There is still residual ash from the eruption on Mt Etna.”

“No, I'll be fine.”

“Then, have a safe trip. We will be safe.”

The Iron Fort was a misnomer for the Vongola Famiglia's main headquarters. Set atop a small hillock in the Conca d'Oro, the building itself dated back to Sicily under Lombard and Arab rule. Surviving under the auspices of the Spade barony, it would have met the ruinous fate of many Sicilian estates during the Risorgimento and the subsequent liberalisation of Sicily's land, had Signore Daemon Spade, the last of the fallen Spade barons, not tied the manor's fate to the rise of a small clan. The man himself had claimed quite publicly a hate of the rotting aristocracy of Sicily, thus leaving the house to the new organisation after his passing had not been strange.

Still, the Family had clung onto the manor house for over a hundred years, a fortified castle which had stood against time, wars, storms, earthquakes and Fascism. Correspondingly, its inner walls had seen many a small drama, and several bigger dramas, the most well-known currently being the Cradle Incident of the Vongola Ninth and his ward. Many an internal fight had been witnessed by these walls as well, including the current one in the main dining room between the Tenth Generation Lightning and a human weapon with the identity of the Tenth Generation Boss's adopted ward.

“ _Ara ara_ , Amaya-san came to dine with me?” Lambo mocked over his  _caponata_. Despite the length of the table separating his place at the far end of the room, from Amaya's position at the doorway of the room, the smell of the fried eggplant hung between them.

The door closed. Lambo's hand closed around the fork he was holding delicately. And Elmo pulled out a chair to sit down.

“All the courses have been served.” Elmo indicated the  _caponata_ , the swordfish with brown butter sauce, and the orange  _granita_ with a side of bilberry standing in a tall glass on the table before Lambo, next to the ubiquitous decanter of red wine and the stemmed wineglass. “Since Elmo cannot tamper with them, there is a degree of trust established now. Elmo elaborates upon this fact: for this dinner, and for one hour afterwards, there will be a reprieve for the Young Master, if he would listen to Elmo here and now.”

Lambo looked at it, and nodded. “Accepted. I'd like to know why you haven't offed me yet. Do you mind if I-?”

“Not at all, Elmo assures. Elmo is the one at fault, for consulting you during your evening meal.”

Lambo's fork pierced an eggplant, causing the gooey insides to gush out. The quality of the Iron Fort's in-house cooking stood true to its noble origins, if the variety was limited by seasonal availability. “You know, the food here beats whatever you guys serve on the Vongola dei Cieli.”

“Elmo agrees, with the corollary of acknowledgement that #A02241 is not actually cooking but concocting poison.”

“Shinku? I agree,” Lambo nodded. “She tried to brain me with a 2007 Cottanera Etna Rosso. I had to save it from her, hence the swordfish.”

“It is #2CA9E1 who has the talent for general work, adds Elmo.” Elmo contemplated the table. “Elmo trusts that it was not poisoned.”

“Ah, she seized it from duty-free. I doubt she had the time.” Lambo smirked, sipping from the glass. “Then again, you already knew that she'd be there, right? That's why you put her there, to kill me.”

“The prime directive of the Vongola dei Cieli does not allow the deaths of the seven, explains Elmo.” Her amber eyes appeared unperturbed; for all Lambo could guess, Elmo was truly uncaring about the moral implications of her duty. “The restrictions do not include harm of various magnitudes, but we are strongly inclined by if statements towards your general welfare. It is disheartening, however, to find that the Young Master apparently disagrees.”

“Our general welfare.” Lambo echoed the words after swallowing some of the eggplant. “Does that include lying to us?”

“Yes. The Vongola dei Cieli predicts that the cessation of Sawada Tsunayoshi's existence will throw all of you into disarray. Sawada Tsunayoshi must continue to exist, no matter who is Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

Lambo traced a fork through the remnants of the  _caponata_  he had just finished. “No matter who is Sawada Tsunayoshi. Those are your words. So we are all interchangeable to you, then?”

“Your identities as the Tenth Generation Guardians we are created to protect are unique-”

The swordfish fillet was speared with great prejudice. “But the people are not.”

“Elmo does not understand, and begs further explanation from the Young Master.”

Half the swordfish fillet was gone before Lambo stopped for another sip of wine. “Elmo, you know... I once thought that Ie-nii would become the Decimo, no matter how unhappy he would become. Tsuna-nii was too kind, and Ie-nii had the talent and temperament of a Mafia Boss. I watched Ie-nii get pushed away by the chief external advisor after the Vongola heir was finalised, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was happy now. But then he created you, the manifestation of good intentions corrupted.”

The wineglass clinked as it touched the tabletop. “The Vongola dei Cieli is the ultimate weapon,” continued Lambo. “With it, Ie-nii seized wealth, power and infamy, as Lorenzo, the backer of the three scientists. With it, and the network of clams that he created, he fooled the Millefiore, the Arcobaleno, and the Vongola. He killed the Ninth Generation and the chief external advisor, and thus engineered the Vongola-Millefiore War.”

“The outcome would be regrettable regardless, but at least the Tenth Generation Vongola is alive to gripe about moral grounds.” Elmo's shoulder lifted in a careless shrug as she watched Lambo continue eating, a noose awaiting the conclusion of the last meal to snap its victim's neck. “The old men who tried to kill the Tenth's brother are gone. The ones who challenged the Tenth's standing are no more. The Varia has come to heel at the feet of the Vongola Decimo. The Millefiore are gone. The Arcobaleno have scattered, their leader's fate tied to the Vongola. Thus, the power of the Vongola Decimo is secured, with nary a casualty too be earned. Do the ends not justify the means, Young Master?”

Lambo laid down knife and fork, considering the emptied wineglass and pouring another two fingers. “Never,” Lambo said without hesitation. “It makes monsters of us all, that excuse. What good is peace when it is built upon a lie? What good is the power you’ve secured? The true Decimo is not alive to enjoy it. You have made fools of us all, your master’s closest friends and allies. You’ve massacred the Ninth Generation, blamed the Millefiore for it, and ignited a bloody war that left too many casualties on both sides. And for what?”

“The Millefiore would have killed them regardless, Elmo points out, in the understanding that their deaths have served the Vongola. If it was for the famiglia, Elmo is sure that Timoteo-jiisama and company would have sacrificed everything.”

Lambo’s hand tightened noticeably around the thin stem of the wineglass, barely refraining from shattering it into a million pieces. “You say you are so sure they would sacrifice everything for Vongola. Did you ask them? Did they know what purpose their deaths would serve? Did they ever get to choose? What right did you have to make that choice for them, Elmo?”

“I did not make that choice, Young Master. Papa did.”

Which was the problem about talking to Elmo, Lambo reflected. Elmo, as the first unit of the Rete Vongole, tended to take the mission given to her as a priority over even other units of the Rete Vongole. No matter how many excuses or explanations, it did not change that Elmo was a being that would simply follow the orders given to her, and otherwise loiter along the rest of her existence with her creator. Elmo would take the blame for everything, he knew, because he knew that the Master who had taught him would have ordered Elmo to do so.

“Elmo is a weapon. Elmo was tasked to secure the Vongola's future by Papa. He did not know to what means Elmo has done so, only that Elmo has achieved those means without harm coming to the nine stipulated entities that he requested Elmo not involve.” Her eyelashes fluttered as her amber eyes cast around. “Elmo does not need to care about the moral high ground.”

“Moral high ground?” Lambo chuckled without humour. “You think my resistance comes from taking a higher moral ground?” He shook his head in disbelief and pulled the  _granita_  forward. The semi-frozen dessert had melted somewhat, but still remained crunchy. “You'll kill me after this meal, if I don't seek safety first.” Lambo commented. “Don't mind if I eat it?”

“If it pleases you.”

Lambo did so. “Then if Tsuna-nii from the past comes here, you would give him everything too?”

“He would have a great welcome, worthy of kings. Then #264348 will remove his memory of the past, and Elmo will send him back, safely.”

“But the tragedy will repeat itself.” Lambo savoured the cold, sweet and sour ice. “That cannot be allowed. Tsuna-nii must return to the past, and prevent your creation.”

Elmo considered. “Given the point at which you would have intervened, your destiny would change. The possibility of this world existing would become zero. This world, and yourself, with all the power and ability you have gained, would be traded in. There would no longer be a strong Lambo Bovino.”

“I would gladly do so, to prevent this tragedy.” The spoon clinked against the glass, sounding like a death knell.

Elmo's eyes closed. “Young Master, your choice was made because you thought that the Guardians should have known that the original Sawada Tsunayoshi is dead. We have showed you the calculations where revealing Sawada Tsunayoshi's death has a net detrimental effect upon the Vongola, Elmo further elaborates. Following Elmo's statements, Young Master, your actions do not follow established logic.”

“No,” Lambo corrected. “I pulled Tsuna-nii here because he needed to know to exactly what lengths Ie-nii would go in order for Tsuna-nii to be a powerful Mafia Boss, and still lose his twin brother. Now, Sawada Tsunayoshi is dead, and nobody will stop Ie-nii from destroying the Vongola.”

“Did Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama not express his wish to destroy the Vongola as well, questions Elmo?” Her legs extended and crossed again as Lambo finished his dessert. “We exist to fulfil a purpose. Such as serving the Guardians. Coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Lambo shook his head in frustration. “The destruction Ie-nii has caused is far from the type of destruction Tsuna-nii would have ever envisioned. You pursue your purpose at the cost of all else. You still don’t understand, do you? Your king is already dead. There is no point in continuing the game when the king is dead. Do you understand?”

“No. Elmo still cannot comprehend the illogic of trying to disrupt the plan. The Tri-Ni-Sette is everything objectionable and nothing good. The Millefiore was a thorn in the side of the Vongola. The Ninth Generation and the chief External Advisor were holding Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama back. And all of you would have been damaged if news of his death leaked out. We have done everything beneficial to the world. So why are you trying to ruin our plan? You will betray Papa.”

“And does your master have a plan for what would take the place of the Tri-Ni-Sette he obliterated? What does the Millefiore matter when you plan to destroy the Vongola anyway?” Lambo rebutted. “Sawada Tsunayoshi is dead! In this life, in this time... he is dead. Ie-nii can never take the place of his brother. You say you orchestrated the deaths of the Ninth Generation and Sawada Iemitsu because they were holding Tsuna-nii back. Did it never occur to your master that he did the same? Like a parasite, he clung to Tsuna’s life, stifling his potential and his growth. And yet, I admit, Tsuna-nii did the same to his brother. I had once hoped that the Vongola Decimo would instead be the Vongola Decimi.”

“Decimi...” the living weapon sounded confused. “It is a pluralisation of the word, Decimo. You mean to say that you hoped the Tenth Boss of the Vongola to be held by two people, Young Master?”

“I did.” Lambo nodded in regret. “But I reconsidered. Ie-nii is such a bright shadow to Tsuna-nii, he would always overshadow Tsuna-nii. I want both of them to be proud on their own merit, even if this dream won't come true.”

“By our analysis, Sawada Tsunayoshi must remain alive. It does not matter who is playing Sawada Tsunayoshi. By our calculations, Sawada Tsunayoshi and Sawada Ietsuna share a life. Therefore, regardless of who was born as Sawada Tsunayoshi, and who was born as Sawada Ietsuna, it does not matter whether it is the day or the night that presides, as long as the Sky exists.”

“...what does that mean?” Lambo's eyes narrowed at her. “Share a life? There's only one person, there's no way you can find another Sawada Tsunayoshi!”

“...Elmo will leave you to your thoughts, Elmo indicates her desire to depart. Elmo will find you soon, Young Master.”

“No! What do you mean!”

The door clicked shut as  E lmo left , leaving Lambo to stew in reflection.

Lambo considered his watch, and set a timer for one hour to the denoted time. The door opened, and Lambo peered out of the corner of his eye as a visor-wearing Sky Lion cub leapt onto the table. Its amber eyes blinked, and it eyed the wine decanter warily before it padded towards Lambo's wineglass. The orange Flame of its mane fluttered as it purred at the alcohol, its tail swishing with an identical Flame.

“...You're going to help me, Natsu?” Lambo leant back, watching the cub.

“ _Gao_ ~!” The Lion smiled, but then peered around with a trilling roar. “ _Roar, arrr._ ”

L ambo wilted. “ I'm not wearing Midori right now.  And, why are you helping me? ”

“ _Gao_? ” the personal Box Animal of the Vongola Decimo blinked. “ _Gao_ _~~_ ”

“I can't understand you...” Lambo sighed. “Anyway, I just need to last an hour- Wait, one hour after dinner...”

L ambo paused  in realisation . “ T hat's when Midori completes her repairs, and  when Elmo said it would begin.  If Elmo's goal was to kill me,  then  why  does she need to wait?  This is the perfect chance.  What happens in one hour?  And... if Master left her to decide it, where is he?  Would he actually leave this all to her?  How far does Master trust Elmo- Natsu! Is Master still in the house? ”

“ _Gao? Gao_...” the cub shook its head  sadly. “ _Gao_... ”

Green flecks of light joined the reflections bouncing off of the wineglass. That was the most warning Lambo got before Elmo's near-perfect clone, this time wearing a green tracksuit, appeared feet-first on the table.

“Young Master, interrupts #3EB370.”

“Midori!” Lambo exclaimed. “But, your repairs...”

“They were completed, graced with the additional Flames supplied from Natsu-sama.” Midori executed a small bow, complete with hand over her chest, at the lion cub. “#3EB370 gives thanks to the Leone di Cieli, version Vongola.”

Lambo nodded at her.  “ Alright, translate whatever Natsu just said. ”

“Natsu-sama said that Fuyu-sama, the Lupa Bianca, has discovered our location.” Midori elaborated with barely a deviation from what a CAPTCHA emulator might sound like. “Natsu-sama adds that Fuyu-sama has received conditional programming earlier today, and Maestro was talking about cows, wolves and the relationship thereof.”

“Oh, you don't say.” Lambo swelled in barely restrained fury as he ranted, “In one hour, that conditional programming is going to activate, right? What's it gonna do?”

“Fuyu-sama will flee from the Giglio Nero Donna, says Natsu-sama, attacking any and all obstacles with its ability to freeze Flames.” Midori supplied. “That will include you, Young Master.”

Lambo nodded in comprehension. “Fuyu is Master's invention, made at the same time as the Vongola Boxes. Master made Fuyu to complement Natsu, and it saved many lives in the War. Anyone who hurts Fuyu will face the Decimo's wrath. Even if a Guardian were to raise a hand to it... hurting Fuyu was the pretext that Master used to send Hibari away two years ago, as the grieving twin.”

The Vongola Boxes were known to be seven custom Boxes made for each Vongola Guardian, including the Boss. However, what was never made public was the eighth Vongola Box, a creation specially commissioned by Sawada Tsunayoshi as a complement to his own. Nobody could understand why, but anybody acquainted with Sawada Ietsuna would have immediately guessed the status of the White Wolf to the Boss' heart, right next to his own weapon. As fire and ice, feline and canine, social to loner, Natsu and Fuyu were practically opposites side-by-side.

“If that happens, the only thing I can do is run away,” concluded the Vongola Tenth Lightning Guardian, his fists tightening. “Elmo's M.O. is to use accidents as cover-up, so that's when she would strike. However, what's confusing is her giving me a specific time limit... what's going on?!”

N atsu yelped as Lambo's fists crashed on the table.

“Hold... it... in...” the teenage hitman growled to himself. “Master... Ie-nii... alright. Wipe the slate clean. Don't panic. Consider everything.”

L etting out a long breath, he gave the wine decanter a longing look. “ Lupara Bianca as a whole  are flexible with  how to kill people, but they can't openly assassinate me in the Vongola's quarters,  hence, an accident . ”  His eyes gained a downcast look. “The easiest way is to simply invite the Varia over  and put me in charge of them. T hat  umbrella guy still has it out for me. ”

T wo floors below, Levi A Than sneezed  in the middle of the Iron Fort's gun room.

“Commander?!”

“It's nothing! Anyway, since Mt Etna is still erupting, we're switching to indoor target practice today!”

B ack in the dining room, Lambo was still pondering. “ Alright, death by Varia aside,  Elmo cannot cast suspicion on herself.  No objects appearing out of nowhere, no misdirected bullets.  So...  if Yuni is coming  one hour after dinner , then Elmo will be under cover,  with Yuni, and away from me when Fuyu starts to kill me.  F or that to happen, Yuni must be at the first floor of this place  with Fuyu.  So, Fuyu has to go up three floors,  or I have to go down.  Which makes no sense as an assassination... ”

While Lambo was driving himself mad with worry, Elmo was instead contemplating other matters as the twin tufts of hair sparked, transmitting back to some place over the Mediterranean Sea. “Signor and Signora are safely back... and #4F284B left after restocking on daemon units to retrieve #FF4E20? This is not logical, #F8B500. Recall #4F284B at once.”

There was a pause as she absorbed the communiqué. “Elmo will not trouble Papa over such matters. #F8B500, you are authorised to take #A22041 and #2CA9E1 to get back #4F284B. Destruction limited to 27 cubic kilometres of Siem Reap International Airport, if it gets to that, try not to be seen. And... Offline #FF4E20. Elmo is tired.”


	40. Folio 39: Murrina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The history of Box Weapon development delves into the Millefiore-Vongola War.

 

The clamshell cuff-links felt heavy on Verde's hands.  It caused the scientist to stop reaching for the wine decanter in silent, reverent contemplation.

The device should have been useless; a pocket smartphone in comparison to normal, specialised Box Weapons. With neither style nor panache, they should have been boring, if extremely useful. Instead, the Vongola dei Cieli and Elmo, its first and head unit, had grown to become far more terrifying than Verde had ever dared to contemplate, the keystone of destroying the Tri-Ni-Sette.

“Sensei? Is there something wrong?” asked his dinner companion.

“Thinking.”

A beat, and then his companion reached for the decanter to pour the wine for him in wordless acquiescence. The action did its purpose, to leave Verde in his thoughts. It would have been good if Verde's thoughts weren't occupied by an invention not of his own.

Vongola dei Cieli.

Verde had been the supervisor of the failing project of the Vongola dei Cieli. Its predecessor, the False Vongole, had reached the peaks of infamy amongst their community, but Ietsuna had not been happy. He had been trying to develop intelligence within a being as low as the clam; a mollusc that not only Lorenzo had overlooked, but even Verde found difficult to adapt for anything useful...

“ _The Serie Mitologica would be far more useful!” Verde had complained. “Look at the Mucalinda; at full power, it will block all attacks from even the sixth dimension! Even the Gambero prototypes are far more useful than a common mollusc!”_

“ _But it will not help us logistically,” his student had replied. “Sensei. In order to persuade Innocenti-san and Kœnig-san, we need to prove that our manufacturing capabilities are viable to persuade them to stay for our venture. We cannot afford to sell the plans for Box Weapons. It would doom all three of you.”_

“ _The Vongola dei Cieli is not useful.” Verde had said._

“ _Not yet. I am writing the operating systems for it.” Ietsuna had chuckled as he produced the files on the monitor for Verde's perusal. “There are two separate segments I have planned. This, Verde-sensei, is the Hardware Emulation Lacuna Eclectic Nimbus Execution; HELENE. It will supervise the 3D printing and assemblage of the Box Weapons.”_

“ _And this?” Verde could not help but feel interested in the project._

_Ietsuna had smiled, quite charmingly. “This is Helene's older sister, an artificial intelligence intended to supervise and guard the Vongola dei Cieli. The Essential Line Mannered Orchestration; ELMO. They will be the ships that will take us beyond the horizon.”_

The past works of Verde, Innocenti, and Koenig were reproductions – none of the scientists had the gift to forge weapons like the legendary Talbot. The Vongola dei Cieli and its daughter clam-network, though, were reconstructions of all their genius; it would not be too far to call them the crystallisation of current Box Weapon technology.

Verde shivered. The night had gone cold, even though Sicily's climate would be forever temperate and mild. Yet, the thought of what lay lurking in the Calypso Deep, beyond the horizon, gave Verde chills of excitement at wondering how far that invention would go. He said as much.

“I cannot be sure, myself,” replied the man with the Italian name of Lorenzo.

They were in a small bistro in Enna, watching the ash-streaked night skies over the highest point in Sicily. Verde considered the emptied plates, waiting for their server to take them away.

“You set out to destroy the Tri-Ni-Sette.” clarified Verde. “And you're not sure about the thing you used to carry out that plan?”

“Yes.”

“And here I am, working with you to destroy it.” Verde looked at the other. “With Skull.”

“Yes.”

Verde inclined his head. “In doing this, I am entrusting you with my life. Can you guarantee it?”

“I cannot even guarantee my own brother's life. I can only do my best.”

Verde waved aside his hand. “It would take a miracle for me to trust anyone. Ask Skull. He can tell you the extent to which I mistrusted even Luce.” Green eyes cast themselves across the table in a sharp flick. “It is so easy to believe in you. There are few people who would go to the lengths you have done for your brother's request.”

“If it goes well, I will have completed Tsuna's request to keep his friends safe.” the brown-haired man bowed his head. “Then I will return this life to him. But, you know, I am worried.”

“Hmph.” Verde hummed.

Lorenzo contemplated his words. “Our acquaintances have chosen to place their faith in me. Elmo and the girls, I created them and they are dear to me. But they did not choose to trust me – they were born doing so.

“They are living paradoxes. Simultaneously flexible and adaptable yet rigid and unyielding. They have no understanding of justice or morality. They can change their appearance with a thought but cannot blend into society. I worry for their future.”

“They're computer programs.” Verde lifted his hands at the dirty look. “I'll have a look, but you should call Irie Shouichi. He's a better programmer than he is a biologist, you know.”

“I need neither biologist nor programmer.” The man blinked. “I need a confessor. I made living weapons to save the lives of a family that cared only for the threat I posed to their Decimo’s future. The only reason I made Elmo was to save my brother. I did whatever he asked me to. I am still doing what he asked me to, and hoping for a miracle. To save the ones I damned.”

It was a miracle, reflected Verde. For a normal person, the world was simply too cruel and cold to hold a miracle. This man, his student, held the opposite perspective; because each and every day of his life, he has lived because of his brother's miracle, thus he knew that miracles existed. It was that kind of faith that had driven the development of the Vongola dei Cieli, and more than once Verde had simply found himself following along his student's pace.

“I am sorry to ask this of you,” spoke Lorenzo, “but help me destroy the Tri-Ni-Sette. So that no more people need to suffer for them, no more families need to be torn apart for them, and no more brothers need to die and endure for them.”

Lightning always flowed from the highest to the lowest potential with unerring accuracy. Clearly, Verde thought, there was no escaping this.

“That is a ridiculous question.” Verde considered his own cuff-link. “I was with you from the start. I will be there with you to the end.” He paused. “What about them, though? The Vindice.”

“We should be fine.” The brown-haired man sipped at his wine. “A physical contract doesn't exist, but... let's say that the Mafia's avengers are very interested in the prospects offered in the Vongola dei Cieli. A permanent cure to our shared problem. You don't want to be popping pills every three days for the rest of your life, correct, _Sensei_?”

“...brat,” Verde muttered without heat. “And... the other problem? Lambo?”

“I've put Elmo on it.”

* * *

“What's she going to do?” Lambo fretted as he walked down a hallway, Natsu and a silent Midori trailing behind him. On either sides of him stood doors set solidly into their frames. “It's almost the hour already, and Fuyu's going to come...”

He grimaced to himself. “Natsu. Aren't you supposed to stick to Fuyu anyway? Why aren't you with her?”

Silence stretched.

Lambo felt a bead of sweat roll down his cheek. The cow-print shirt stuck to his skin, and his back still felt distinctly vulnerable. “Natsu, don't tell me, you got modified too...?”

A low growl started. Lambo felt himself almost crouching down, willing a small Lightning Flame into his pinkie ring. It might be enough to buy some time to flee, because if Natsu and Fuyu were after him, Lambo was going to become roast beef soon-

“GAO!”

“ _Gyaa_!!!!!” Lambo screamed.

The Flame burst into a dome right as Lambo felt tiny paws leap onto his head and fire. The Ruggito di Cieli flared, less like Flame and more like the radiance of light itself, before it crystallised over into the clearest slivers of ice.

Not to be deterred, Natsu ran forward, meeting the flash of silver-white head-on as the Box Animals clashed. The wolf cub bared her teeth, growling at the Sky Lion, who purred and puffed up its mane in response.

“Zero Point Breakthrough, the special ability of the Lupa Bianca...” Lambo swallowed. “The ultimate anti-Dying Will Flame weapon... thanks, Natsu. You saved me!”

“ _Gao, gao._ ” Natsu growled at the wolf, who snapped its jaws in return.

“Natsu-sama said to find shelter.” Midori translated. “Enemy Flame signature, approaching three o'clock!”

The wall caved in as a tiny black portal winked into existence, long enough for a bullet to shoot towards Lambo's skull. A wall of green light solidified, diverting the bullet. The smell of melted lead perfumed the air in passing.

Holding part of the wall casually, Midori dismissed the shield of light with one wave of her hand. “The Administrator is moving as well.”

“Good work,” Lambo nodded, studying Fuyu and Natsu's Mexican stand-off. “Who's the closest Guardian?”

“Gokudera-sama is directly two floors below-”

“Rephrase,” Lambo cut in. “The closest _without_ structural damage.”

Midori was unable to respond, since another five bullets came in from unusual angles, teleported into that place. “Sasagawa-sama, in the gym. Midori will handle this, Young Master!”

At the ground floor's, Asari Amaya blinked at the track-marks of a wolf cub with a white-dressed Boss of the Giglio Nero. “#3EB370 is operational far earlier than expected. Elmo would rather not bring down the house here.”

“Then what should we do, Amaya-nee?” Yuni blinked slowly.

“Your appearance here was purely for cover, but it is a fact that your ability to read and influence memories is valuable.” Elmo considered. “It cannot be helped.”

“Memory-editing-” Yuni's eyes widened, and behind the impassive mask was a hint of fear and indigo. “How much?”

“Enough to cover up the last five years.” Elmo smiled. “Put your hand into mine, Ai. We will sortie.”

On the third floor, Midori drew back as a black portal appeared before them. “Run!” Lambo screamed, dragging Natsu and Midori behind him as the bullets started pelting at him from places without any gunmen about. He turned around, backing up as Yuni's smiling face greeted him.

“Y- You- The Sky Arcobaleno!”

Yuni smiled, even as Lambo's face fell pale. Lambo's hands scrabbling over the knife that she had just stabbed into his middle. The smile faded as her clear eyes hardened and took on the sheen of indigo Flame.

“There are secrets in the Rete Vongole that you were never told, Young Master.” Her delicate hands gripped onto his head, burning with indigo Flame. “Maestro has negated the Arcobaleno Boss, by killing her before the rest.”

Lambo gaped at her, unable to do anything more than be horrified. “The Arcobaleno...? Not even Byakuran...”

The blue eyes narrowed. “Night has fallen over the sky and earth. It'll be alright, Young Master.”

“Young Master!” Midori's hands glowed green, and identical spheres of barely contained visible static charges dotted her forelocks before they shot out. The shots that sped with three times the speed of light were swallowed into black portals that winked out of existence, and Midori feinted as one of her own shots came pelting at her from above her head, conjured by the appearance of another portal.

Midori's hair sparked. Elmo blinked as the lights overhead started to blink, and an awful creaking resounded before the doorknobs from all the doors were ripped off of their housings. Floating in mid-air next to Midori, each of them sparked with Lightning Flame.

“Steel in the brass doorknobs,” noted Elmo as a green projectile immediately made for Yuni. A black portal appeared before the projectile, swallowing it and winking out of existence. “#264348, how is the editing?”

“He's fighting me-” she was interrupted by another projectile shooting at her.

Elmo snapped her fingers, conjuring a portal to divert the shot. “Conflicting priorities?” she asked lightly.

“#3EB370 is emitting a strong EM field, it's interrupting my Flames,” the unit wearing Yuni's face replied. “I didn't even know Flames could be used like that,” she added, awe in her voice.

Midori kept directing projectiles towards them. “We are Box Weapons to begin with. In terms of Flame capacity, or manipulation, there is no human that can match us. No, that is not right... currently, there are few humans who can match our Flame manipulation.”

“#3EB370. This has gone far enough.” Elmo raised both hands, her eyes changing from amber to black. “Prima Donna, standby.”

“No!” The brass-covered doorknobs thudded as Midori tried to ward Elmo off, but the Administrator of the network of living weapons had teleported and reached into her. Elmo's hands burned black, flooding the Flame-composed shell until she was directly touching the green clamshell that made up Midori's true form.

“Start.”

Midori's face slackened. She stopped moving. The light fled from her eyes, and the doorknobs stopped glowing. They dropped onto the carpet, no longer controlled by a very strong Lightning Flame with its own electromagnetic field.

Her hands still burning with indigo Flame as they pressed to Lambo's temples, Yuni's eyes blinked. “Onee-sama, couldn't you have used the Prima Donna program at the start?”

“#3EB370 had sealed her communication suite from my requests, obviously to prevent me from using the program to enslave her.” Elmo pulled out her hands, watching Midori's body shimmer out of existence now that the intelligence keeping it together was locked. “It is disappointing, that as the Administrator, Elmo is forced to such tactics. However, using force to subjugate #3EB370 would destroy this manor, and the four Vongola Guardians here. Even until now, we are to protect them.”

“Editing complete.” Yuni's voice neutrally spoke. “I have uploaded a list of changes to the Young Master's memory to you. Shall I construct replacement platelets and blood cells for the Young Master as well?”

Elmo's eyes shifted to the side, their colour returning to normal. In her central processing unit, she was currently considering the edits that the Big Seven unit had done. “Remove the mental bomb. If all goes well, the Vongola Famiglia will fall, and finally the masters will have their chance at a peaceful life. And then, Yuni will be able to die, and Ai will be able to wear any face she likes.”

“I will do so, but I would like to point out that I identify myself as being between.”

“Do as you like.” Elmo was silent for a moment. “...Identification?”

“For gender identity.”

“I understand.” Elmo took a deep breath. “Asari Amaya identifies as female.”

“And Elmo?” Yuni's voice sounded amused at the question.

“Elmo will identify as anything Papa needs.” came the answer, resolute. Elmo held up the green shell in her palm then. “However, Papa remains the most important person. Because, Papa made us, and saved us.”

“I see. I want to return to Maestro's side soon~” sighed Yuni's voice.

Elmo ignored her. “#3EB370. Prima Donna commands, hand over your Black Cartridge, and then follow my directions to fight #4F284B. Your duty has changed.”

Like a puppet, Midori began to stir. Were Elmo a being with emotions and the thoughts of a normal human, she may have gloried in her power over her younger units of the Rete Vongole. She may have been scared of it. She may have been ambitious with it, and might have even fought back against the one who created her as not only the only unit with intrinsic teleport capabilities, but also the ultimate master/slave program override of the secret weapons in the shadow of the Vongola.

To Elmo, though... No such thoughts, foibles or urges crossed her mind. Elmo was simply consulting the message her creator had sent, and considering her next task, since the current one was done.

* * *

Scenes of similar carnage were appearing at the tarmac of Siem Reap International Airport. It was started by a strafing run of multicoloured birds, each setting out to burn down a private terminal and blockade those within. The black-dressed clone in the purple shoes came later, and Tsuna only realised her presence when a hand yanked hard onto his hair extension disguise.

Smoke erupted around them – from the yells and the panic, the birds had apparently dropped smoke bombs. Murasaki held the seashell in her palm, the very same one that Tsuna had seen Ōtan holding. It was about the size of his palm, which meant that it fit perfectly into her own hand. It had also made for a rather large extension piece on his head.

“W- Wait!” Tsuna started as Murasaki made to leave. “Murasaki... why?”

Murasaki did not respond. “Why am I letting you off, or why am I taking Ōtan away?”

Tsuna sat up. “You can speak normally?!”

“Yes. Our minds are connected via our birth from the Vongola dei Cieli. Our speech patterns are uploaded onto the shared mental network, so we need to identify ourselves within the sea of multiple processes. Because each of us are keenly aware, not only of our identities as artificial intelligences created as clams, but also of each other's lives and deaths, we must identify ourselves from each other, given that as artificial intelligences we are more or less identical in terms of thought processes and syntax.”

Tsuna nodded. “I see... Elmo can also speak normally. Erm... will Ōtan be alright?”

“#FF4E20... Ōtan will be hunted.” Murasaki corrected herself. “If I know the Administrator, Ōtan has been judged a liability. Elmo has always seen Ōtan as a liability, because Ōtan was created though there was nobody left to serve. A tool without purpose, master or worth, a container of valuable Sky Flames. It might not be our intended function, but I always felt that our youngest sister should have more value.”

Tsuna swallowed. He could not bring himself to regard them as machines, at least not this girl, who only wanted the best for her younger sister. Even the hearts of steel and circuits could apparently scrounge up enough feelings for Murasaki to exist. “Where will you go?”

The smoke was already starting to fade, and with it the screech of birds was getting louder alongside a constant flapping.

“I do not know.” Murasaki sounded lost. “We of the Rete Vongole can pass amongst human society, and subsist on other forms of energy. Ōtan will have a chance to find her own purpose.”

The orange shell caught on fire, orange flame burning along its grooves. Murasaki looked at it, frowning.

“#FF4E20, your purpose was not one of your own choice-”

The roof collapsed. Red flame streaked across the rafters. Mukuro's chuckle rang out in time to the arrival of several explosions. And three more figures crashed in.

The plane melted. That was the best description Tsuna could come up with, as red flames consumed its body and turned the aerial conveyance into so much slop. A red-clad Elmo clone giggled, red Flames trailing behind her every hand gesture.

“#A22041, on sortie!” cried the red-clad Elmo. “Shinku is the hottest one!”

“#2CA9E1, on sortie.” Another clone, this one in light blue, landed next to the red-clad one.

“Oh, no.” Murasaki sounded remarkably deadpan as she considered the other two.

Spanner had stumbled out of the jet before it was turned into so much slop. Beside him, a deadpan Aij-iro was supporting Kœnig; it was a remarkable sight to see a petite girl lift a large man of Kœnig's weight like a rag-doll. Spanner, however, was not considering the white-dressed clone, but the other three who had just attacked them.

“#4F284B, Murasaki,” Kœnig coughed as he spotted her. “#A22041, Shinku. #2CA9E1, Ama. Is Lorenzo so desperate to recover Aij-iro that he'd send three of the Big Seven?”

“ _Oya oya_ ,” Mukuro's mirthful chuckle filled the air as the illusionist dismissed the remaining smoke hanging around the interior of the private terminal with a wave of his  _trishula_. Beside him, Chrome was silently blinking, her lips moving as her lone uncovered eye flickered from one clone to the other. “More of the living weapons?”

“Doesn't matter.” Hibari was already rushing forward, tonfas at the ready. “I'll bite you all to death!”

Ama stepped forward, using her reinforced bladed weapon to block the first two strikes. Hibari snarled, stepping forward and then pushing his weight on a frozen patch of jet fuel to avoid Ama's first strike. But the blue unit ignored him then, instead rushing ahead towards Tsuna.

Tsuna was unable to keep watching Hibari fight, because then Murasaki put a headlock on him with surprising strength. No; it was more accurate to say, Murasaki lifted him out of Ama's assault and lashed out with her foot. There was a flash of purple, almost lost until it billowed out against the blue-riddled blade in a bloom of smoke-like Flame.

The smoke-like Flame froze into ice.

Orange Flame burning on his forehead, Tsuna in Hyper Dying Will Mode glared. In his left hand was a slender ankle, ending in a purple covered kitten heel. In his other hand burned a blued Metal Edge. Three pairs of amber eyes kept watching each other.

Behind Tsuna, a sea of red Flame spread. The red-clad clone, her amber eyes flashing, was throwing exploding spheres of crimson against Fon, Hibari, Mukuro and Chrome without breaking a sweat.

“Move and I will terminate you, #2CA9E1!” Murasaki snarled.

In response, Ama dropped the blade and ducked, her hand brushing Murasaki's waist. Blue slid by black and purple, before Ama twisted on one leg, a burning orange shell in her hand before it was replaced by an orange-clad girl.

“#FF4E20.” Ama monotonously stated upon the entrance of the other living weapon. That was all the warning received before Ama bladed boomerang took Ōtan's head off of her shoulders.

Tsuna's burnished eyes widened. Fists covered in orange Flames impacted on Ama's body, but caused her nothing but a flinch and a backhand that felt like a solid club. Murasaki's reaction merited even less calm than his; a whirlwind of birds began turning around them, centring on the eye of an invisible storm.

“What did you do?!” Tsuna roared at her. “That was your sister!”

Ama stared back at him. Despite the common tint of their eyes, Ama sounded confused, as her words proved: “#2CA9E1 disrupted the Flame matrix of her body with brute force.”

Ōtan twitched. Her body clambered to its feet, tottering. Tsuna watched, his shock dimly held back with Hyper Dying Will as her head started budding and growing from the stump of her sliced neck.

“Oh?” Kœnig had arrived on the scene from wherever he had been hiding, too drawn by curiosity to stay away. A stray red flash lancing at him was deflected by a spiralling shield of misty green.

Ōtan spoke once her mouth and the rest of her head was back, not a molecule out of place. “As long as my shell is safe, #FF4E20 cannot die until #FF4E20 runs out of Flame.” At her feet, the other head that had just been lopped off burst into a ball of flame and winked out.

“Too bad, mocks #A22041,” snarled the red clone as the terminal roof split apart.

Green lightning crossed the revealed skies. Birds, Murasaki's swarm, shrieked as they were struck by individual bolts, falling along with the humanoid figure in green that crashed through the heavens. Bolts of lightning followed her, illuminating her silhouette; the brown hair, the green boiler suit, and the glowing green plasma that dripped from her radioactively verdant eyes.

“That is...” Murasaki sounded shaken.

“Fall back, Boss.” Ōtan spread her arms, placing herself between Tsuna and the newcomer as she flatly requested that his retreat. “There is a twenty-ton airplane headed our way.”

“What?!” Tsuna looked up. True to Ōtan's words, a Boeing jet was being inexorably dragged down, its nose pointed vertically down towards them. The roar of its engines nearly took out his eardrums, and the screech of its descent caused the pleats of his skirts to toss about in disarray.

The figure in green raised an arm, and with it verdant light sliced it apart into so many pieces. Every slice brought with it a propeller, a turbine, an arm...

The body fell from the disassembled plane and landed onto concrete with a splat. Its uniform pleats were pristine, and Tsuna's eyes widened as it was joined by more bodies and a hail of falling luggage. The steel supports of the terminal creaked as they turned towards her, and the flock of hostile birds continued to surround her like a storm.

“#3EB370,” Murasaki spoke in wonder. “She was supposed to be with the Young Master... Prima Donna has happened, I see.”

“Prima Donna?!” Kœnig shouted over the noise of screeching steel in a ferromagnetic storm. “Aij-iro! Elmo's slaved that unit!”

“Magneto-receptors at one hundred twenty percent!” The toneless voice called back. “At current power, we can't last against the Taurids!”

Laughter echoed. The red and blue were gone, leaving the purple-heeled clone to stare with a worried expression towards the green monster who had just dissected a Boeing passenger plane with no regards for collateral damage.

Spanner slid by the walls, whistling at the damages. “Doesn't sound good.”

“Explain.” Fon had stalked over to them, Hibari just barely taking over, and they gave near-identical glares towards the German scientist. “Now.”

“The firing volleys of the Vongola dei Cieli is differentiated by type,” Kœnig quickly explained. “Standard high-explosives rounds are the Leonids, named for the meteor shower. If it's anti-personnel railgun rounds, that's the Taurids, also known as the Halloween Fireballs. It uses the Lorentz force to shoot multiple Lightning-reinforced projectiles down at Mach 5, completely destroying the area. And, if Elmo slaved Midori using the Prima Donna function-”

“Slaved?” Tsuna felt sickened. “So... she's not doing that of her own will?”

“Computers don't have their own will as you understand it, young Vongola.” Spanner gave another wide-eyed stare up at the floating barrage about to punch down upon them.

An ear-splitting shriek came through. Bolts of lightning took down another flock of birds, and Murasaki sighed, sinking down to her knees.

“Aij-iro?” Kœnig asked his white-dressed unit as more of Tsuna's allies began to group together.

“#EBF6F7 was built to adapt to any defence, but #EBF6F7 cannot compete against #3EB370.” Aij-iro replied, her voice robotic and toneless. “The Big Seven are magnitudes above.”

“M- Murasaki.” Tsuna turned to the kneeling clone. “Please help us.”

Murasaki shook her head. “My power is using the Cloud Flame to differentiate units during their replication. I am not made for direct combat like #3EB370.” Murasaki continued to look around. “#A22041 has irradiated this air with charged ions, primarily protons, in order to raise the potential voltage of the storm that #3EB370 would create.”

The first projectile hit ten metres away with a ring like a clap of thunder, but Tsuna pressed on. “But you're her sister! You must know something!”

“Not even illusions will deal with this,” Mukuro glared at the hovering metal projectiles. “I am sorry, my dear Chrome.”

“I'm alright, Mukuro-sama.” Chrome shook her head.

“This is ridiculous,” said Fon, shaking his head ruefully. “How does Ietsuna-kun hope that his brother would escape unscathed?”

Hibari had never taken his eyes off of the skies since that moment. He did so now, watching from Tsuna, and slowly tracing from Kœnig and Aij-iro to the stoic Ōtan.

“You.” Hibari pointed to Ōtan. “What can you do?”

“I?” Ōtan echoed. “I am to ensure communications, Hibari-sama.”

“Communication between sisters? Like hacking?”

“Yes.” Ōtan's reply caused Tsuna to start in surprise.

Hibari pointed towards the green-covered clone. “And that? Can you hack her?”

“The Taurids volley will eliminate us before Ōtan has a chance to revert the master-slave control.” The assessment was coolly delivered. “However, should we all survive, I believe that #3EB370 will be unable to recover as much power. The safest method, by current estimations, would be to survive this before incapacitating and reverting the master-slave communication.”

“No normal Box Weapon can stand up to Mach 5 projectiles.” Mukuro sniffed, producing an ornate box from one pocket.

“The Vongola Box Weapons are not made for brute warfare either, Rokudo-sama.” Murasaki had gotten back to her feet. “Hibari-sama. Rokudo-sama, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama, Fon-sama, Herr Kœnig, Spanner-sama. Forgive my rude arrival, but I, #4F284B of the Rete Vongole, proposes a truce, to be dissolved upon mutual agreement. I have information about an ability that will allow us to do the plan just stated by #FF4E20.”

“No way!” Ken, who had just regrouped after being knocked out with Chikusa against Ama, shouted.

“Let's hear it.” Tsuna stated. “I have a good feeling about you.”

“Some Box Animals can turn into weapons. Cambio Forma.” Murasaki imparted, staring at Ōtan. “The Big Seven have Cambio Forma capabilities. Ōtan's Cambio Forma can save us all, but her Sky Attribute requires an active will, and she is, first and foremost, a weapon. Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. How much do you trust her, to wield her?”

Ōtan blinked wordlessly as Tsuna nodded. “I trust her. Because there is no other choice.”

Ōtan's body burned with orange Flame. From the pyre dropped a banner, a pure white sheet upon a stick. As the hail of change-ringing projectiles rained down, a boy scooped up the white flag and raised it with a cry, a lone shout against the meteor shower.

The flag began to burn.

* * *

“I'm glad that you're getting better, Kozato-san.” The brown-haired man nodded to the owner of the tiny  _Trattoria_ he had been eating at. “Are you going into Germany again?”

“It can't be helped, Tsuna-san.” Kozato Makoto ran a hand through his thinning red hair, now streaked with grey. “Düsseldorf is the only place we can find a real Japanese cook. Not that Sicilian seafood is inferior, but the taste of home is hard to find sometimes, you know?”

“I thought Enma and Mami always bring back loads of souvenirs with them,” was the curious response. “This time they're at... the Bay of Bengal, right?”

“Ah.” Makoto nodded, looking around the homely-looking brasserie that served Japanese-Italian fusion cuisine. “Enma looked a lot happier when we decided to pull out of the thing. You know what I mean.”

“I'm just glad that he found his own happiness.” The brown-haired man replied, glancing towards the photo frames behind the counter of the restaurant. “Is that an engagement party?”

“Oh!” Makoto nodded in approval. “You have your brother's sharp eyes. Yes, Adel and Julie make a nice pair. I was sort of wondering if she'd get together with Enma, you know, but Mamie's guess was right as always. I wonder why us men of the Simon all have the same type...”

The older man seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Tsuna-san. Are you free on the sixth? We're going to observe Ietsuna-san's death anniversary with a gallery showing of his paintings. The ones that haven't been sold, anyway.”

“... I want to be alone on that day. Sorry.” was the reply. “Was this Mami's idea?”

“Ah, it's alright. It's your brother. The two of you were very close, right?” Makoto's brown eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “The two of you looked the same, but were as different as day and night. I think, usually siblings would start arguing or something at that stage, but you guys never fell apart.”

“Mami's idea.” The man smirked. “How are the rest?”

“Paris. That peace conference thing. You know, sometimes the kids just go backpacking and they end up lobbying for climate change.” Makoto nodded down at the shorter ma. “We might not have talked much, but I can probably say this for Ietsuna-san. You're not alone, Tsuna-san.”

The brown-haired man slowly nodded, ignoring the sharp looks shot by Verde through the outside windows of the  _Trattoria della Terra_. “Thank you, Kozato-san.”

“You're going away again, Tsuna-san?” asked Kozato Makoto. “You don't have to say it. It's in your eyes.”

“Kozato-san...” the brown-haired man sighed. “I'm going now. Take care. Give Mamie-san my regards.”

“You can give me those regards yourself!” An older red-haired woman walked towards the counter with a smile. “Going already?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

She leant towards the shorter man. “He's a bit old, don't you think?”

The man flushed scarlet. “He's my professor.”

“And you're dining together in the middle of Enna!” Mamie chuckled. “Really, Tsu-chan?”

“I'm going!”

A few more farewells, and the man left the building and clambered into the waiting car's back seat. Verde sat in the back as well, leaning back into the upholstery as a shadow of a clone popped up in the driver's seat. The car peeled away as the shadow started driving.

“Keep driving when I teleport, Sumiiro,” the brown-haired man who currently held the name of Sawada Tsunayoshi ordered.

“Yes, Maestro.”

“Good. Verde-sensei, do you have any plans?”

Verde smirked. “I was thinking. If we're doing this... plan... then we need the Vindice. I'll bring it up at the meeting later.”

“Alright. Verde-sensei... do you regret partnering with me?”

Verde blinked at him. “There is no room for regret in the pursuit of scientific inquiry. No matter what, I have discovered more about this curse than any of us every thought possible. I am so close to a permanent cure. What is there to regret?”

“I see. I will see you later, then.” The man sighed, and then he disappeared in a  _fwip_  of black.

The edges of a cloak fluttered in a breeze, as the brown-haired man with the face of the Vongola Decimo strode out of a black portal, into a private room of the Vongola Famiglia Iron Fort.

A silence passed before the man demanded: “Result?”

Elmo rose from her seat next to the bed that held Lambo. From a wooden chair, Yuni's eyes blinked back.

“Welcome back, Maestro.” spoke Yuni's voice.

“I'm back.” sighed the man. “Well?”

“Due to #264348's actions, the Young Master's memory was wiped.” Elmo calmly replied. “He will not know of us, or of Nocturne. The case of Miss I-Pin still remains difficult, but manageable provided that Miss I-Pin does not appear before him.”

The brown-haired man looked down, to the green lines threaded within the Spanish carpet. “I see. Keep I-Pin away, he won't remember. He's safe, at least?”

“As much as he can be, Papa.”

“Good.” The brown-haired man turned to Yuni. “Thank you, Ai.”

Colour flooded Yuni's cheeks. “...I didn't want his face.”

“I appreciate your holding back from scooping his memories, anyway,” came the smooth reply as the brown-haired man, their master, dropped himself into the chair next to the bed. “Ai. I know you do not like this identity. As dumb as this brat can be, though, he is my student and I care for him, dumbness and all. You are learning how to hold back. That is a directive I gave to all of you in the source code, and that is admirable.”

“Yes, Maestro!” Yuni nodded.

“Back too work, then.” A pause. “Where is Gamma, by the way?”

“I gave him and the rest the night off,” Yuni's voice replied. “I told them I'll be sleeping over here with Onee-sama.”

“Good cover, Ai.” The man checked his watch. “I'll tuck you in, for the cover. Elmo, we're going to HQ after I tuck Ai- I mean, Yuni, into bed. You'll get the Yatsufusa daemon units. Have them on standby as Asari Amaya.”

“Yes, Papa. I will proceed to make my face shown around now, then.”

“Well, then.” The brown-haired man eyed Lambo, who was sleeping peacefully under the covers, before he stood up. “Yuni, let's go brush your teeth. I'll tuck you into Amaya's room.”

Yuni's smile lit up the room. “Yes!”

The three of them left Lambo snoring in his room. The brown-haired man and Yuni walked away. After a moment, Elmo slipped down a hallway, clicking her tongue as she came across Natsu and Fuyu still at odds next to the banisters of the manor's main stairs.

Since both Box Weapons were connected to the Wi-Fi of the place, it was a simple matter of mentally uploading commands to shut down the rootkit that Elmo had installed earlier in the Lupa Bianca. Natsu's gold eyes glowed once Fuyu simply sniffed and walked away.

The Leone di Cieli Giallo growled, almost as if it wanted to unleash its roar and freeze her there. “ _Gao_!”

“While admirable, the effort was for naught, Natsu-sama,” Elmo told the Sky Lion cub.

“ _Gao_!”

“Go ahead,” Elmo shrugged without missing a beat. “Bester-sama is in a similar situation as yourself.”

Natsu vibrated, slinking back as he growled.

“Can't we get along? For your current master?”

“ _Gao! Gao, gao!_ ”

“Well, then.” Elmo corrected herself, smiling faintly. “In a sense, we are siblings, with myself as the older sibling. I was part of this Family before you.”

Natsu sniffed, padding away from the kneeling girl. The girl blinked, watching the lion cub leave before she felt sharp eyes eyeing her. She turned her head, meeting sharp eyes set in a scar-riddled face. “ _Buonasera_ , Uncle Xanxus.”

The man squinted at her. “...you're not a boy, right?”

“What a strange question, Uncle.” A weak smile, and lowered eyes. “I must not be making enough effort to conduct myself.”

The man scowled, back straightening as the girl continued to stare back at him with her golden eyes. Those eyes, and her uncanny resemblance to the Sawada twin who had fought him in female dress, had been part of the reason why being around the Decimo's ward gave the Varia boss a frisson every time he was forced to stand in her presence. “Adopted ward, my ass.”

The girl known as Asari Amaya continued to smile at him. “Papa is very kind to me, but I am fourteen years old. Though, thank you for your worries, Uncle.”

“Che. Strange girl,” Xanxus turned on one foot and stormed away, cursing in a strange mix of Italian and the Sicilian dialect.

“This is 'fun',” Elmo frowned, nodding. “Saved to database.”

She continued waiting there, until a ping of a Cloud Flame signature manifesting in Palermo called her. Then, it was as if she was never there.

* * *

In the midst of falling stars, Rokudo Mukuro almost laughed to himself. The green meteors here which peppered the tarmac of Siem Reap International Airport, shot with Lightning Flames and the magnetic forces it commanded, were far more real than any illusion, real or otherwise, that he could make. Ironically, he was actually on the side of the Vongola here.

The decision was hardly one of choice, but of design. Alouette Lei's corpse and the thing that landed her in Vendicare had disappeared from the Vendicare two years ago, before the war. The then-rising Gesso Famiglia was suspected as one of the parties responsible. To the four main people in the Kokuyo Gang, who owed their freedom to being traded by the Vindice for the old bird, the debt of karma was heavy. The Gesso would pay.

It was in his travels to locate the people skilled enough to steal from Vendicare, that Mukuro had caught up whispers. People smuggling of staggeringly impossible magnitude and distances. Arms trafficking between countries under sanction. Assassinations and retrievals carried out, despite all the barriers of time, space, and security.

Mukuro had immediately hit upon that such an entity would have, at least, a clue of the resources needed to stage a heist of Vendicare. Serata Travel, Cascia Manufacturing, and Lupara Bianca S.p.A. were sock puppets; shells that Mukuro had been peeling at over two years since he had the free time to do so. He had hit upon a party associated with living weapons, shady deals, and a face that by mere description sounded like the Vongola Decimo. It had confused him, until Mukuro recalled that two people had that face, which needed the uncooperative skylark to differentiate.

Nocturne. An entity that had reached so deep, Fran had chosen their side. For his apathetic disciple to actually choose a side was alarming, especially as he realised that behind Fran, and thus within Nocturne, must dwell an incredible power to make the apathetic frog choose anything.

He was right. The exact details might have been overlooked since humanoid talking clams were stretching the boundaries of the plausible, but the fact that a meteor shower of metallic aeroplane parts were hammering down upon them in a rain of destructive Solidification proved that he was essentially correct. What was even more implausible, was the thing currently shielding him.

The fifteen-year-old Sawada Tsunayoshi, Tenth Boss of the Vongola, was currently holding a flag, or leaning on a flag standing as tall as himself. The banner's previously bleached surface burned with Sky Flame, the silhouette of the Vongola clam, and the clam shape alone, across of it. Summoned from the tip of the banner was a dome of Sky Flames, currently marking out a hemisphere of solid light that was shielding the four Kokuyo members, Hibari, Kusakabe, Fon, Kœnig, Spanner, Tsuna himself, and two amber-eyed female clones, from shrapnel and meteors coming in at more than terminal velocity.

The destructive hail of shrapnel had stopped, or slowed, Mukuro could not tell. Their enemy was still there, the clone in the green boiler suit literally crackling, the electric charge of her Flame causing the air itself to fizzle in green, before a celestial presence of orange Flame.

“Christ,” Kœnig muttered. “What is this?”

“All under the flag is protected,” Chrome murmured in wonder, staring at the glowing orange dome. “As if all conflict was wiped away, before a saint fighting with brows furrowed, in the semblance of a prayer...”

“It is the Cambio Forma: Insegna di Decimo.” Murasaki was pulling a pearl from her bracelet, flicking it with the tip of her right index finger towards the enemy. It passed through the barrier, and burned blue to hit the enemy in the chest with a cyan-coloured swallow. “Maestro made it.”

Chrome stared at her, as if it had only just occurred to the illusionist that Murasaki was there. “W- Who are you?

“It is an honour to finally meet you, Rokudo Mukuro-sama and Chrome Dokuro-sama.”

Ken blinked, and his exclamation of surprise went unheard by the others.

Chrome drew back in the tight space. “W- Why do you know my name?”

“We of the Big Seven were created under the Vongola dei Cieli of our master to serve the Vongola Tenth Generation, Dokuro-sama.” Murasaki shrugged. “I am #4F284B, Murasaki, first of the Big Seven. The sister that Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama is wielding is #FF4E20, Ōtan, the youngest of the Big Seven.”

“And... her?” Chikusa spoke up at last, pointing towards Kœnig's companion.

“She is #EBF6F7 – Aij-iro. Although not part of the Big Seven series, she is also part of the Vongola dei Cieli auxiliary Rete Vongole.” Murasaki blinked. “She is a living Box Weapon.”

“A single force field cannot protect against that many railgun projectiles,” Mukuro glared back. “If this was so powerful, then why didn't she activate it earlier?”

“The Sky Flame Attribute is Harmony.” Murasaki began to explain, her voice toneless and calm as the dome began to fade. “#FF4E20 was designed to ensure an absolute communication. What the Insegna does, is to confuse combat identification within the enemy, regardless of technological, biological or metal barriers. It is therefore rendered as harmonious that a combatant does not shoot his ally.”

The heavy implications contained within were lost, as Tsuna collapsed, and the flag dropped from his bloodied, mitten-covered fingers.

This caused Murasaki to wordlessly regard everyone's stunned expressions. “Some more fine-tuning might be required.”

The sound of sirens echoed distantly, before static crackle brought their attention back.

“This incident has been reported,” spoke Aij-iro.

“That's our cue to leave,” Fon peered around the flattened battlefield, wrinkling his nose at the sight of fallen bodies. “In this sort of inhumane battlefield, there is no way we can escape questioning. They will probably arrest us all as terror suspects. We must scatter and hide in the city itself.”

“If I may,” spoke Murasaki, “there is a faster alternate solution.”

She then drew a black Beretta from her belt, and fired.


	41. Folio 40: Pietà

 

A cool breeze swept Palermo, whose metropolitan atmosphere was a direct contrast to Corleone on the opposite end of the island. In Palermo at least, Gamma could enjoy a smoke outside without worrying about being shot. In Corleone, it would likely end up as his last cigarette. Gamma walked out of his usual bar, his swagger noticeably restrained, the fingers of his right hand itching as they traced the black Box hanging on his belt. The box had weighed on his mind since the start of his sudden night off, when his ward and Boss went to sleep over with the Vongola heiress. His left hand played with a Zippo lighter, lighting a Mondial as he strolled along, looking like every other salary-man on a pub crawl.

"I really should stop," he spoke aloud, looking at the Mondial. "Second-hand smoke would affect Yuni-sama."

He'd had the same urge for a smoke during the Millefiore's reign too, he recalled. The urge was there during the Millefiore-Vongola war, too; the bloodlust had not lasted against the Vongola's guerrilla tactics. Gamma had been exhausted and drained with paranoia and lack of sleep from all the reports, especially once news of the Melone Base's fall came in. Not to mention the Africa base disappearing off the face of the earth.

The fact that the Vongola Decimo had actually seen fit to save his Boss instead of killing her, when he lost his own twin brother... It was perhaps an uncharitable thought, given that the Giglio Nero was now allied to the Vongola, but the Vongola's possible revenge kept Gamma up at night.

The loud crack caused the Mondial to fall from Gamma's hand. Gamma blinked as an orange-clad shadow crashed into a brick wall beside him with enough force to topple an elephant. The girl slid to the ground, vacant eyes gleaming from under brown bangs.

"B- Boss... boss-"

Bullets, he realised.

Shooting.

Guns.

He turned to leave.

"Boss..." The girl was literally pulling herself across the side-walk, uncaring of her own dignity. "Boss..."

Slowly, Gamma turned his head, and staggered back as the girl glowed _orange_ : the colour of Sky Flames. It was so unexpected, and something inside him shrivelled at the possibility that the endless welcoming Sky could be made to serve another. The gold flame lit up the breezy night, revealing a black shadow holding up a familiar silhouette in a bid to kill the Sky in front of him.

The report of the guns made the choice clear.

The fake Mare Ring- the one that Gamma had once been forced to wear and the one he forced himself to wear now to protect the Giglio Nero Famiglia- glowed green as he punched the cabochon into the Box's hole.

* * *

Seven minutes earlier, Ōtan had joined the others in collapsing upon a stone floor.

"It is nineteen twenty-seven hours, Central European Summer Time." Murasaki's voice announced over the pounding in Tsuna's head, probably caused by crashing his skull into the hard ground. "The location is the Chiesa Annunziata alla Zisa, located within the Piazza Zisa, in the city of Palermo, capital of Sicily, Italy."

Wincing on the ground next to Tsuna, Spanner blinked. "We just crossed... over nine thousand kilometres. In the blink of an eye."

"Yes, Spanner-sama."

"And you just... used it. The power to teleport."

"Yes."

Hibari, Mukuro and Chrome were climbing to their feet, along with Ken and Chikusa. Aij-iro was helping up her own master wordlessly. A soft hand hauled Tsuna onto a chair. Tsuna blinked as Ōtan's face swam into view, a concerned frown apparent since they had apparently crossed international borders into a different continent.

Spanner did not, apparently, share that concern.

"That is _awesome_ ," he breathed. "Each of you is a _masterpiece_  of Flame manipulation. I mean, we all thought that Sky Flames were useful only for turning things into stone, but the Insegna is something we – the old man, I mean – never even considered. And using the Cloud Flame's Propagation attribute to manipulate different components to instantly mutate and print out a Box Weapon template for immediate use on the field is absolutely _brilliant_. The Rain Flame to control temperatures is even more-"

"You cannot be serious, boy," Kœnig interrupted flatly, struggling to stand despite his support. "Aij-iro, radar."

The white-dressed clone snapped to attention. "#EBF6F7 reports, enemy homing in- two enemies homing in!"

The black portal that bloomed overhead was covered in flashes of green, before a something crashed through it. At the same time, another portal appeared, and a figure walked through it.

"Hello, Uncle," purred Elmo, clad in a little black dress, illuminated by the flashes of green from the first portal. Those flashes showed her against the backdrop of dirty stained glass set into iron frames, set within high Baroque arches of stone and silhouetted with a crucifix. "Elmo welcomes you to Palermo. Sadly, Elmo cannot welcome you to stay."

"Aij-iro," Kœnig ordered. " _Armatura: Lama Stregata_."

"String: Lama Stregata chosen, read. Enemy identified." Shields of green and indigo erupted, shooting towards Elmo. The shields impacted upon a web of green Lightning and fizzled.

"#3EB370." Elmo looked towards a clone in the green boiler suit, who Tsuna faintly recalled should be in Siem Reap. "Uncle, as well as your targets, nearly came this close to Papa. What will you do?"

"...I will rectify the mistake." The clone paused. "Administrator, please remove Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama from the crowd. The Taurids is hard to aim."

"Elmo has been ordered not to help you, #3EB370. You will have to rectify this mistake yourself." Elmo's reply was flat as she spoke. "Only then will you be able to save your Young Master."

"As Maestro's disciple, Young Master is also your Young Master, Administrator." The other's tone was mildly censuring. "Midori only says this to correct a matter of fact."

At this, Elmo slowly turned her head to look at the green-dressed clone. "If that was the case, then how could Elmo do what Elmo had done to Young Master Bovino? The premise is false. He is not the Young Master. Not anymore, since he betrayed Papa and brought _him_ here."

Elmo's finger stabbed towards Tsuna's direction. "Did you think that Elmo could not know? Elmo already knew. Elmo sent #FF4E20 into the past. Elmo chased the two of you to Johannesburg and waited. Elmo sabotaged Natsu-sama and Fuyu-sama to trap him, and Elmo sent #4F284B to remove #FF4E20, knowing that she would be unable to do so and defect."

Elmo was there, and then here, in Tsuna's face, one finger tracing his nose before the finger conjured a black Flame. "No matter the outcome, sooner or later Uncle had to step into Palermo."

Green crackled. A shield sliced through Elmo's arm, dousing the black Flame. Sniffing, Elmo's arm grew back in a gel-like solid, her amber eyes narrowing as her head turned around with a one-eighty at Aij-iro.

"Step away from the cross-dresser boy, he's needed," Kœnig grimly announced. "Elmo. Listen to me. This has to stop. There is no way Lorenzo can get out on top of this, not for long. When the Arcobaleno- no, the Vindice- when they come and arrest him, or kill him, what will happen? You will all be destroyed."

Amber eyes narrowed. "It is only when we are destroyed that the world is either at peace, or we have been rendered obsolete. Either outcome benefits Papa, and thus fulfils our purpose of helping Papa achieve results. Now, Elmo shall eliminate this barrier that blocks his path ahead."

"#EBF6F7 responds." The response took the form of another green blast before Aij-iro and Elmo's fists clashed in mid-jump. The resulting shock-wave vibrated the air and cracked the plaster walls.

Hibari moved then, his tonfa appearing next to Fon's elbow. The Arcobaleno barely had time to react when the ring of a deflected projectile answered the question of what Hibari was doing with his tonfas glowing purple. The purple tonfas and a glowing red fist met two green palms, as Midori leapt into action against the Storm and Cloud.

Aij-iro crashed against the church wall, as the building structure itself began to groan and sag, as iron detritus began to float around Midori and the two of the skylark clan like some magnetic whirlwind of red, green, and purple. With a snarl, Elmo's hand sparked with black smoke, before she aimed a gun at Aij-iro's centre and fired.

Red and yellow splashed against the white of Aij-iro's dress, causing the unit to spasm before Elmo reached _inside_ and pulled. The white shell in her hand, Elmo slammed the carapace next to the convulsing body, breaking the shell into tiny pieces.

"Aij-iro!" Kœnig gaped in horror as the body collapsed and melted away into light and Mist Flames.

"Putting up a mere _soldato_ unit against Elmo? Herr Kœnig, you underestimate Elmo too much." The gun was levelled onto him with a professionally lax grip.

"Stop!" Tsuna screeched to a halt in front of the German, spreading his arms in front of Kœnig. "Don't shoot!"

"They are the enemy, Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama."

"They are my friends!"

"They betrayed Papa." Elmo's gun became shrouded in black smoke. The report of another gunshot resounded as the bullet shot through, entered a portal in front of Tsuna, and exited a portal behind Tsuna right into the centre of Kœnig's forehead.

Tsuna stood, frozen as the muffled thump of Kœnig falling registered. Not even Spanner's muffled curse made sense, or Ōtan sliding forward to check Kœnig's body, or Murasaki still peering about.

Wheeling about, Elmo proceeded to change her aim towards Chrome.

"Stop!" Tsuna hoarsely shouted. "That's Chrome!"

The slide began to slide back with the trigger-

Chrome screamed as a purple shadow descended. Murasaki's open-palm slap knocked back Elmo's head, causing her to let go of the gun. This was followed by a strike to the nose, two claps to the ears, a throat-strike, chest strike, and three _chassé_ kicks to the legs, hips and torso. Murasaki was gearing back, before another crack caused her to stagger away from Elmo – a hole, burning with red and yellow flame, was eating into her.

Elmo screamed, lashing out at Ōtan, causing the orange-clad clone to fly away with the force of her strike. Kœnig landed on the ground again, the vacant stare of his eyes stained with blood from his wound as Murasaki crawled towards him.

Tsuna took his chance, palming two Dying Will Flame pills and running into the fray. His own flame burst onto his forehead as Elmo's head snapped forward and head-butted his own head, the force causing his brain to ring and his eyes to cross.

"Uncle can wait. Elmo will remove the useless one now." Elmo backhanded him into several of the church's pews and walked forward, into the three Kokuyo Gang men. Blinking, Tsuna tried to sit up in his own wooden wreckage, as Ken and Chikusa got within striking distance of Elmo.

Elmo snarled with something akin to frustration on her normally calm features, and tapped them. Ken and Chikusa disappeared.

Mukuro blinked. "Teleportation, I see." He did not move.

Elmo's narrowed stare furrowed.

"That obviously took a lot out of you," Mukuro purred as columns of lava started to break out around him. "The heat's getting to you, I see. You've obviously proven your physical might, so how about you settle down for a bit. I'll even call my beasts to entertain you..."

The flapping of wings started up. Melting out of the crumbling shadows of the church, crows with toothed beaks started to flutter around the pair of them. They descended, pulling and tugging at Elmo's flesh and clothes and hair.

"You're very calm for someone being eaten by crows," Mukuro commented, stepping away from her. He was hardly smiling.

"I'm not entertained." Elmo's face remained eerily blank. "I'm going to end this now."

The crows winked out of existence, leaving behind a few scratches upon Elmo's skin.

"I'm sure we could manage something," Mukuro started to smirk before he stabbed her.

As he staggered to his feet, Tsuna blinked, rubbed his eyes, and blinked. The crashes and horrified gasps continued.

Even Hibari ducked out of his own fight to eye Mukuro's face being slammed across the church walls by a solid grip on his ankle. Elmo relaxing her grip sent the pineapple-hair illusionist flying across the chapel, into the crucifix hanging on the far wall. The heavy iron depiction crashed down with Mukuro's fall from the Sixth Realm. Some more detritus joined the fallen crucifix as Ōtan was bodily thrown through the far wall and out of the church. The iron candelabra came down, its steel spokes bending as it began to trap arms and legs of two skylark men and twist into a parody of medieval torture under Midori's powers.

"Vongola Decimo, Sawada Tsunayoshi." Tsuna was stopped by Midori's words. "Surrender now."

Midori held Fon and Hibari struggling under a reinforced iron candelabra with one hand. With the other, she was aiming another few floating metal pieces towards a frozen Chrome, who was standing in front of Murasaki and Spanner desperately performing first aid on Kœnig. Her amber eyes met his.

"You don't want to do this," Tsuna realised aloud.

"#3EB370 has no choice. Under the Prima Donna, #3EB370 is forced into a master/slave relation to the Administrator. That body she is using now is her daemon unit." Midori evenly replied. "She has the Young Master."

"Who is this Young Master?" asked Tsuna.

"Vongola X Lightning Guardian, Lambo Bovino. She has commanded #264348 to wipe his memories. She has also implanted a worm in #3EB370's operating system commanding #3EB370 to kill the Young Master if #3EB370 attempted an unsanctioned rescue. #3EB370 cannot even betray her, because that body is only a daemon unit, a zombie computer like me. The real Elmo does not have her hardware here."

"So..." Tsuna's fists tightened. "This is Ie's weapon. This is the weapon that killed Kœnig-san, destroyed this place, and threatened my family with complete disregard for innocents. And she doesn't even want to face me herself."

"But Elmo is facing you, Uncle," Elmo's voice rose from Midori's throat. "Elmo is currently using #3EB370 to see and hear Uncle properly."

"How dare you," Tsuna growled almost ferally. "These people are my friends!"

"Elmo was taught that friends do not take advantage of their friends to fulfil their agendas. Since Young Master Bovino summoned you here to disrupt the Maestro's plans, Elmo doubts that they count-"

"They do count!" Tsuna interrupted, seething with a bone-deep anger. "They are my friends, more than you could ever understand. Ie's definition of friend… He never understood! Ie lied to them. They are _right_ to be mad! I'm dead! You couldn't even publicise that I'm dead! No, my twin brother has to steal my identity to play Mafia Boss!"

Tsuna pointed at Elmo. "You can contact him, right? Call him. Call him here. Let him explain himself!"

* * *

Fran laid parallel to the surface of the water. A rowboat drifted across the rippling waves. He ignored the whispering of a deer's footfalls. He ignored the deer's escape when a soft _fwip_ resounded next to the boat _._

The dripping of cold Alpine water onto his face was harder to ignore.

"I thought you'd actually be in the water instead of floating," spoke the black wolf. The man was seated on the wooden jetty in the small lake that Fran was floating above, wool-clad legs with Oxfords at the ends hanging down next to Fran's wooden row-boat.

"Too bloody cold." Fran yawned, shivering as a breeze sent ripples across the pond. "Can we put our meeting in the Bahamas next time, _mon loup_? I hate the Alps."

"You were here when we did our first job."

"Yes, well, breaking into Vendicare needed that touch." Fran squinted up at him, peering up at the lone shadow. "You came alone?"

"Elmo's in the lodge, saving Skull-san. Unless you don't consider Elmo a person?"

"We've been through this. Elmo is as much a person as you or I can claim." Fran shrugged, yawning. "Oi. Help me up."

The other only smiled. "Jump up."

"The boat will capsize."

"I have a mission for you."

"I'm off duty. Find someone else."

"It must be you, Fran. It's a fight in the middle of Palermo with Elmo's daemon units."

"I am not moving one bit."

"You may choose not to move." The man smiled indulgently. "But know that I need you now."

"..." Fran looked up. "If I do not move, and I will still be able to do this... I'll do it."

"...Elmo will tell you what happened. Tell him everything. What we did. Why I can no longer turn back. Thanks."

A flick of a finger, and a black portal immediately sent Fran on his way to Palermo. His shoulders trembling, the man with the legal identity of Sawada Tsunayoshi beheld the starry sky over the Swiss Alps. Chips of ice fell off of his cheeks with a lachrymose air.

" _Ma grenouille, il n'y a plus de choix._ "[1]

* * *

For all of his vaunted Hyper Intuition, Tsuna was as taken aback as anyone else when a soft body landed onto him.

" _Zut, le bâtard._ " The body on top of him complained, long limbs poking into his back as the other person clambered to his feet using Tsuna as a support. "What the- oh hell. No wonder he just teleported me. Where the hell are we?"

"Monsieur, Elmo greets. Commencing mental download."

"I- Elmo, _up_!" the other person was cut off as Roll's howl reverbrated and orange shrouded Elmo. A giant ball of purple spikes advanced, homing in on the person who was holding onto Tsuna's forearm with a surprisingly tenacious grip. Tsuna started in shock, and a black _fwip_ tossed them out into the skies.

The other person, a green-haired young man wearing a frog-themed hat for some odd reason, grabbed both of his hands, preventing Tsuna from attacking. Palermo glowed, its backdrop a multi-coloured and lighted background to their imminent deaths. "Both of you look the same," spoke the other man as the two of them free-fell. "It's amazing."

"You know him." Tsuna mouthed, his arms flailing to shake off the other's grip. "Let go of me!"

"Calm down," the other dead-panned. "I'm Fran. Your name?"

"Tsu- Sawada Tsunayoshi. We're falling!"

"I guess the cow brat brought you to spite Enzo." Fran nodded, ignoring Tsuna. "Look into my eyes."

Blinking, Tsuna heeded the command even as they turned and fell in mid-air.

"I am Fran." Fran spoke, the words stolen from his mouth by their free-falling, and yet completely audible to Tsuna's mind. "I was with him when he chose to cast aside his own name for you, in your future. I am the only friend who stood with him in the war against the Millefiore. Elmo just told me what happened. I can tell you what we did in the war."

A tear fell from Tsuna's eyes. Even in Hyper Dying Will mode, a part of Sawada Tsunayoshi seemed to surface, a human facet to the alien serenity of instinct. "He didn't come. He regrets it. But he won't see me. How can I help him like this?"

Fran was silent for a long moment. Indigo mist wrapped around his arms, and his green eyes took on a bluish hue as they wrapped around Tsuna's head. "He won't come because you can't help him. You are the reason he's done everything you're condemning him for.."

Spanner stared as Murasaki pulled a robin's-egg pearl from her choker and slammed it into the red and yellow flames in her shoulder. Behind him, a creak of iron resounded, along with a snarled threat as Hibari finally got within biting distance of the living weapon called Midori. At his feet lay Kœnig and the shattered shell of Aij-iro, who died with few words and ceaselessly defending her master.

"Do you feel pain?" Spanner asked as a visible grimace crossed Murasaki's visage.

"I lack the nervous system necessary to do so." Murasaki stated, pulling two gold pearls from her bracelet and cracking them together. A pair of yellow fireflies sparked, floating to continually orbit around her before narrowing down to her wound. "Channel to #E6B422: enhance Cloud replication."

Purple flared from the wound, and slowly it began to close.

"#E6B422..." Spanner echoed. "Red value 230, green value 180, blue value 34. Yellow."

"System checks. Flame regulation stable. Citadel stable. Main hardware unit stable. Mental construct model stable. Virus and spyware scan-"

Fear crossed Murasaki's face before her amber eyes sparked with violet Flame. "-unprotected. Force update definitions, running virus scan- Prima Donna-infected memory files isolated. Scrub and erase permanently. Unable to erase. Scrub and quarantine."

Midori landed next to Murasaki, parts of her body missing coherence and seemingly almost liquid. The living weapon herself had a bored expression as her liquefied chest started to reassemble its shape.

"The clams learnt to keep their brains elsewhere." Hibari sat down next to Spanner. His offhand explanation was offset by the green clam that he sandwiched between the concrete ground and the tonfa in his right hand. "It doesn't look like they can do anything just as a clam."

"On that we are in agreement, Kyoya." Fon knelt down on one knee to study Murasaki's shoulder. Both dark-haired men bore scratches, ripped clothings, and singed hair as well as a distinctly shredded, windswept look. "Oh, that is useful," Fon wistfully added as he watched Murasaki's skin heal itself.

"The Rete Vongole units are capable of overloading and overheating," Midori stiffly informed him. "However, in the interest of rescuing the Young Master, I must remain alive and intact." Her countenance grew uncomfortable. "Prima Donna aside."

The purple in Murasaki's eyes died a bit. "Forgive me, but I must save Ōtan. Hibari-sama. Fon-sama," she greeted as she made to rise to her feet.

Fon's hand laid on Murasaki's head. It seemed delicate, but Murasaki stopped moving.

"Tell me. That combination of close-combat attacks, where did you learn it from?"

"I do not know." Murasaki replied. "Perhaps the Maestro inputted it."

"Head, nose, eyes, neck, arms, legs, tail-bone and spine." Red flame gathered in Fon's hand, eating into Murasaki's hair. "The Mauviette combination. Why do you have my mother's hard-won combination?"

"Enough." Hibari's clipped voice was quiet compared to the noise of Palermo awakening in the wreckage. "Who is a threat?"

Murasaki's eyes did not waver from Fon. "We are autonomous weapons. Are you our users? If yes, then the threat is your enemy. Else, we are your enemy."

"That's a terrible answer." Hibari smirked, leaning forward towards Murasaki. "Clams that will open up for anyone. Exactly what was Sawada Ietsuna thinking, letting you loose on the world? However, it seems as though we share certain aims at the moment. It does not matter. If you get in my way, I'll bite you to death."

"That's dirty, Kyoya."

The smirk dropped as Hibari glared at the other man. "I'll bite you to death after the other clam."

"Elmo is after Ōtan," Murasaki commented with a frown. "She went-"

One of the church's remaining walls crashed in, Elmo being blown through a support pillar and the fount of holy water into a mass of pews. All five heads snapped to the side, and then back to watch the main entrance, where a blond man holding a billiards cue walked through the double doors, the orange dress of Ōtan visible over his shoulder.

"Oh, it's the Vongola." the blond man smirked. "I'm Gamma, with the Giglio Nero Famiglia. The evil twin ran away once I came, so I rushed here."

The effect was slightly ruined as a body plummeted through the roof and on top of Gamma, sending the fully-grown Mafioso into the ground. However, nobody commented on the comedic sight, not even Mukuro and Chrome rising from the wreckage of the crucifix. All of them were transfixed upon Tsuna; the normal boy who had somehow fallen through the ceiling, and now lay with his eyes closed and brow furrowed, mumbling as if trapped in a nightmare.

[1] ** _FR: My frog, there is no longer a choice._**


	42. Folio 41: Figura serpentinata

The lodge house itself was somewhere around the Alps, the chill so very different from the rest of Italy, the mountains so remote and civilisation so far, as to seem like the ends of the earth. Elmo found I-Pin seated on the enclosed veranda next to a small table and two other chairs, watching with a four companions the blizzards raging outside.

“Elmo!” Skull leapt to his feet. Behind him, Oodako's hands waved. “He's here?”

“Yes, Skull-sama. Verde-sensei will come soon as well. Papa is resting.”

“Soon is always relative where you're concerned,” the Cloud Arcobaleno nodded to I-Pin. “Talk to her, would you? She won't leave that one alone.”

“Yes, Skull-sama.”

Skull left, sliding the door closed behind him and his pet. Elmo studied I-Pin, whose back was turned to her, and whose right hand was threaded into the blackened, flaming burnt orange mane of a fully grown male lion.

“Leave us.”

The lion turned towards Elmo, a full-bodied growl erupting from its maw and its amber eyes glaring back. Elmo's fists tightened visibly and the lion dropped, choking as its paws began to flail in visible pain and whimpers.

“Stop it, Elmo.” I-Pin turned around. “He's done nothing wrong. Just leave him, Elmo.”

Elmo's fist relaxed. “Miss I-Pin, the meeting will begin soon. Papa sent me to summon you.”

“What for? Master found out about Serata.” I-Pin glumly replied. “I'm no longer useful to Nocturne. Like this lion, I might as well spend my days cooped up in the mountains, safeguarding this place.”

Elmo has no expression on her face. “If that were the case, then the Cervo del Fulmine would have suffered similar symptoms. Elmo urges Miss I-Pin to discard such wandering thoughts if presented with evidence that Miss I-Pin is not useless.”

I-Pin silently considered the words, before changing the subject. “This is a Black Lion, right?”

“It is the Nero prototype of the four Leone di Cieli working designs, yes.” Elmo dutifully replied. “This particular model was based on the  _Panthera leo roosevelti_  or Ethiopian Lion.”

I-Pin hummed. “Why is its Flames black?”

“ **Classified information.** ” Elmo did not look disturbed from the robotic inflection of her voice once her censor program started. “It is cold. Elmo understands that hot beverages are a necessity if Miss I-Pin intends to stay outside for the meeting.”

I-Pin shivered. “You're right. Could I have a cup of hot chocolate?”

A tray thudded down onto the table. Elmo began to spoon cocoa powder into a ceramic mug patterned with plum blossoms. A decanter of heated milk was then pressed into service as Elmo slowly stirred the cup, ignoring the black lion creeping up behind her.

“Will Miss I-Pin want marshmallows, asks Elmo?”

“ _No_.” The word was spoken much more vehemently, before I-Pin leant back in her chair. “Does the lion have a name?” She asked Elmo.

“Not to my knowledge, answers Elmo to Miss I-Pin.” Elmo considered the question as she rolled on the balls of her feet to stand with the mug clasped in her hands.

I-Pin giggled as she accepted the mug. “That's so weird. I thought the theme would be colours like the rest, or something like Elmo or Helene.”

“There is no reason to do so, since the Leone Nero is not part of the Rete Vongole.” Elmo replied quietly. “As for colours, it is only because our serial numbers so far match the RGB scheme.”

“How would I know?” complained I-Pin. “I can't get an Internet connection on my phone.”

“If I may?”

I-Pin slid her smartphone over the table. Elmo picked it up, studying the Xiaomi logo before the screen flashed and a Wi-Fi icon appeared on the top bar of the lock screen. The Chinese girl blinked as she accepted her phone and checked through her email. “What did you do?”

“Elmo rerouted your phone connection through a few satellites in geostationary orbit.” Elmo frowned. “It is a security risk, admittedly, hence Elmo would appreciate it if Miss I-Pin will not inform Papa.”

“In that case, you can contact Papa anywhere, right?” I-Pin asked.

Elmo blinked slowly, despite that the motion was purely cosmetic for her. “Yes.”

“But...” I-Pin frowned, “what if _you_ fall into the wrong hands?”

“They will have to catch Elmo first, Miss I-Pin, and Elmo can move away from them.”

“That is so cool.” I-Pin rolled her eyes. “I wish I had a Box Animal as cool as Elmo.”

“Elmo notes that the Passero di Sole is a more than sufficient Box Animal.”

“It's a sparrow, Elmo.” I-Pin sighed, patting the lion on its mane. “I'm going to ask Gēgē if I can use you, alright, Lion-kun?”

“Elmo reports that, besides the matter of incompatible Flame types, the odds of Papa letting out this model is minimal as to be an impossible event. Miss I-Pin is advised to refrain from giving odd nicknames to the prototype models, lest Miss I-Pin becomes disappointed-”

“La, la, la!” I-Pin ran into the lodge-house, closing the screen door behind her.

“...”

A wave of a hand dismissed the tray. Elmo made to move, but then she hit the ground as a large, full-grown Ethiopian Lion with a flaming mane made contact with her. She was still clawing at the ground when the lion's jaw closed around the back of her skull and bit down.

A fingerprint-sized portal winked, speeding a bullet into the lion's skull. The animalistic weapon reared back as the bullet exploded in a riot of red, allowing Elmo to stand up and twist her head back to its proper position, the scars on her face enhanced for a moment before they knitted back together.

“Using Sky Flames to manipulate _Elmo_?” Elmo hissed, advancing onto the lion. Another bullet exploded near a fore-paw. “Elmo will see what you did, Giotto.”

The black band of mane around its neck tightened, and the lion thrashed in whimpers as its throat constricted under the black Flame collar. Elmo's eyes spun around her head, before her eyes widened and her hand slammed down on the lion's back, causing the large predator to fall before the slender figure.

Wrenching her fingers directly into the collar, Elmo pulled out a larger silver ring with a sky-blue cabochon set over a relief of the Vongola emblem. “You used the Sky Ring and Elmo to send a message to the past!”

Her eyes examined the lion as it growled back at her, before she absently reached down and broke its left fore-paw in a crushing grip. Elmo slid through the sliding door to the lion's whimpers. The sliding door slammed shut before she disappeared, condemning the Black Sky Lion to a freezing vigil in its injured state.

Its gold eyes narrowed in vindicated hate, before it started to roar. The collar locked down upon the magnificent king of beasts, but thrash it did, its amber eyes burning before it roared an insult only another Box Weapon could ever recognise. Another bullet exploded at its feet.

The Black Lion sniffed, settling to nurse its injured paw, and to wait. On the other side of the door, Elmo's back was stiff as she walked away and disappeared.

* * *

Gamma's presence this night was fortunate. Since they were at a loss to explain the young lookalike of the Vongola Decimo, the two Guardians and one Arcobaleno had to make up a short story. It ended with Gamma offering them a roof over their heads, at least for the night, which Fon accepted for no other reason than that Tsuna had been attacked, and seemed unlikely to wake up until the psychic lock, or imposed dream, was over or was broken by Mukuro.

Their small party of ten had barricaded themselves into a small room of the Giglio Nero mansion, with Fon between the door and the bed. The illusionists of the Vongola was now seated on either side of the young Tenth on a guest bed. Hibari stood by the lone window, keeping a lookout. The two skylarks seemed to alternate looks between the points of entry, and the three clones that sat around a starstruck Spanner and a tired, punch-drunk Kusakabe.

“We can only wait until Yuni comes back,” Fon considered. “Murasaki, was it?”

The living weapon acknowledged her name. “Your requests, responds #4F284B?”

“Your master. Sawada Ietsuna.” Fon grimaced. “What did he make you for?”

“Why does anyone make weapons?” Murasaki's eyes glittered. “To fight, responds #4F284B. To protect.”

Her eyes drifted to the sleeping, frowning Tsuna. “We have failed in one respect, it seems.”

* * *

Whatever the green-haired man had done, Tsuna decided, he wanted no part of it.

He was in a living room, or a really large dining room, or some room involving large desks. Two men of identical features though different bearing were talking to each other; the animated one in the paint-spattered apron was waving a baby-name book at the other man, who wore a suit that seemed as though it was waiting for its wearer to catch up.

“We need names, Italian names, that are easy to pronounce.” Ietsuna's face was so familiar that Tsuna cried and threw himself at the other, only to somehow pass through Ietsuna's midsection and land with a thud opposite them. “And since you managed to tame so many beasts, I pronounce you Francesco.”

Gingerly, Tsuna sat up, rubbing his forehead. It did not hurt, which further reinforced his impression that this was a dream, or a memory – either way, all in his head.

“Let's assume that I play along, Ie, then what's your name?” He heard the other him reply. “Because I am not doing this alone.”

“Get used to it, Tsuna. Ah... how about Lorenzo?” teased the older Ietsuna.

“For the other saint in the Caravaggio  _Adoration_?” Tsuna smiled at the reminder from his future self. “Your favourite painting.”

“I'm sentimental, and the name refers to laurels. Maybe I will succeed in a new life with this name.”

“Mmm...” the older him nodded back, absently fiddling with a large ring on his right middle finger, which Tsuna recognised as the Vongola Sky Ring. Somehow, the fact that Ie had escaped the curse to become Boss relieved him of a heavy weight in his heart. “I have something to tell you.”

“This is unfair to you.” The older him started. “Timoteo-jiisan agrees with me; you should have part of the Family as well, instead of being hunted by Iemitsu!”

“I'm surprised you're talking like me, Tsuna,” Ie shrugged. “He'll be heartbroken.”

“He was dead to me the moment he called another hit on you.” The older him looked both pained and constipated. Tsuna knew that look; it appeared on his own face when he told off Reborn and Timoteo-jiisan about mistreating his brother. “I'm so glad we switched identities then, otherwise when would you ever tell me? And the fact that only Hibari-san and Lambo came to your aid! I will seriously rethink my Guardians at this-”

“Stop,” Ie sighed.

“At least tell me these things!” The older him riposted. The anger faded into sadness. “Can't you trust me?”

A blank look came over the older Ietsuna's face. Their hands joined, quiet and friendly. “As those old men with Timoteo-jiisan decided that only one can become Boss. They planned this with Iemitsu. I did not want you to worry. It is only due to bad luck that you found out now. But I am alive, in university, and I will live an ordinary life until you need me.”

Ietsuna's hand rose to touch his twin's face. “I am only sorry that you must walk this path alone now.”

“And what if an assassin comes after you again?” the older Tsuna repeated. “I sent away the assassins last time, but next time they'll check if you are actually me in disguise. Even if we're identical twins, we won't be able to act as each other all the time. It would have to take actual magic.”

“I... have some help.” And Ietsuna turned around to face, inexplicably, Tsuna. “Fran?”

“Mukuro's disciple ran to you?!” The older Tsuna laughed as the green-haired man, younger and happier than when Tsuna had seen him first, appeared beside the twins with a wide grin. “He's... your Family then?”

“Fran, this is Tsuna, my twin, and further detail can probably be left aside seeing as our identical faces and my introduction just made our genetic makeup quite clear.” Tsuna had to stifle a giggle at the loquacious introduction, as well as the sweeping bow Ietsuna made from Fran to Tsuna, and then back. “Tsuna, Fran, my... Well, more like business partner... but I'm sure anyone who ran from the Varia will manage.”

“You're business partners with a hitman on the run from the Vongola independent assassination squad. Are you sure you don't want to live as me?” The older Tsuna's face twisted.

The older Ietsuna smirked. “We're going to be twenty, I'm going to inherit everything from Grandpa and invest that into a consulting firm. You're going to inherit the Vongola. We'll still see each other.”

“I don't know how you can make such broad strokes of your plans and not have them screwed up,” sighed the older Tsuna as he pulled at his jacket lapel, “but I really want to believe you.”

“He's loopy,” Fran told the older Tsuna, much to the fifteen-year-old Tsuna's consternation. “Really. Running arms in the underworld would be much easier if he was the Decimo.”

“Dammit, Fran.” Ietsuna swore quietly as both Tsunas, seen and unseen, absorbed the pertinent facts.

The older Tsuna did not look amused as much as resigned.

“I can explain.” Ietsuna began.

“...Please do.” The older Tsuna turned on one heel, and Tsuna marvelled that his future self would cause the green-haired man to take a step back. “Let's start with you, Fran-san. I'd love to have a conversation with my brother's friend.”

I'd love to talk to him too, Tsuna realised. I'm glad that he's not alone, but what about...? Everything? Why did he fool us?

* * *

In the real world, Fran dropped into his seat at the second seat on the left from the head of the table.

Across of him, Hana scowled. “Where were you? We were about to begin.”

“I sent him on an errand, Kurokawa.” Amber eyes shot towards Fran, seemingly lazy in their speed but no less piercing. “Welcome back, Fran. How was it?”

“I did what you wanted, all without moving a muscle.” Fran rolled his eyes. “Unless you count the brain, which is very sexy but not exactly part of the muscular system-”

“ _Fran_.”

The illusionist fell silent. Seated next to Fran, the man with piercings and violet hair shuddered in his full-body leather outfit. “You're on a roll today, Enzo.”

“Forgive me, Skull-san. I had two scientists to corral.” As he spoke, two men in white coats dropped into two chairs at the opposite end of the table, between Skull and Lancia. Elmo, standing at Lorenzo's right hand, barely twitched.

I-Pin, seated at his left, started, but did not otherwise react, looking instead next to her, to Hana. Her eyes then bounced to Fran, Skull and Lancia, before she considered the two men; one auburn-haired, and one green-haired. “Where's Elmo?”

“Forgive me, Miss I-Pin,” Elmo started to say as she walked out of a black portal. The effect was ruined as everyone stared at her. Even Lorenzo looked up from his papers and blinked.

“My dear, why is your hair on fire?”

“The Nero prototype bit Elmo, Papa. And clawed at Elmo.” Elmo's hand absently squashed the orange Flame on her bangs.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “Don't provoke him in the first place.”

“Permission to destroy the prototype?”

“Denied. Is he an immediate danger, Elmo?”

“No.”

“Then we can discuss this later. Now,” and here Lorenzo steepled his fingers. “Let us begin.”

“As the upper echelon of Nocturne, I assume you already know the purposes of this meeting.” Lorenzo's tone was low, inviting nearly everyone to lean forward. “The strategic stuff first. Lancia, Kurokawa. Congratulations on taking out the last three Mare Rings in Eastern Europe.”

“Murasaki did most of the work,” Hana scoffed. “Rasiel made a run for it, though.”

“He'll come to the Commission meeting in three days, as planned.” Lorenzo nodded. “We erased the chain of command until he's the only sizeable force left. When our ultimate aim is realised, the Varia will probably be falling over itself to remove him first, due to Belphegor's hate for his twin brother. Xanxus would probably follow along, and that would keep them out of our hair long enough, to pack up and erase our presence.”

“Eh?” Skull spoke up. “We don't know that! Belphegor can't challenge Xanxus!”

“Bel-sempai isn't ambitious enough to do that, Enzo.” Fran volunteered in a bored tone.

“Xanxus won't have a choice. Rasiel will want his blood sooner or later, and thus Xanxus will be honour-bound to fight Rasiel, since Belphegor is technically a Varia officer. The important thing, is to make sure that Rasiel can stay alive and have enough power to create a deadlock between the Varia and any remnants of the Millefiore he scrounges up.” Lorenzo snapped his fingers. “No Arcobaleno or any relations, and Kurokawa and Lancia are burned, so that leaves... Fran, or Elmo. We'll decide later who gets to play the devil to force Rasiel to sign on the dotted line.”

Fran raised a finger. “Just so you know, I'm not going near Bel-sempai's creepy brother.”

“Duly noted. Elmo can go then.” Almost everyone at the table flinched at the thought. “Next topic. We have managed to fine-tune the mechanism of the Pholadidae series, using Earth Flames.”

“The Angelwings?” Shoichi spoke up in confusion. “I... didn't know that. Why were we replicating the process on the Angelwings?”

“Because after Kœnig ran off with unit #EBF6F7, we realised that his Armatura series would be more effective if the individual parts were not worn down with any forces, including gravity,” Verde explained. “This boy is sentimental to a fault, and decided that now would be the time to unveil all the new prototypes we made of Kœnig's initial designs.”

Lorenzo's features twisted in a slight frown. “He may have betrayed us, but he did help to make Elmo and the girls. I will inform Yamabuki that the serial number and Flame combination #EBF6F7 is to be retired from the database.”

“Elmo will handle it.” Elmo offered. “Elmo and Helene share mutual knowledge of each other.”

Nobody asked about the oddity of her syntax. If it felt like Elmo had many different personalities sometimes, then they attributed it to her status of being connected mentally to every other unit on the Rete Vongole servers.

“Last item.” Lorenzo looked tired as he announced it. “Lambo has sabotaged us, by bringing in my brother from ten years in the past. He's in Palermo right now with Fon, Hibari, Rokudo and Dokuro, as well as two- three rogue units from the Big Seven. With them were Talbot's apprentice Spanner, Kœnig and the Rete Vongole unit #EBF6F7 that he stole from us. They fought off Elmo's daemon unit, with casualties in the form of Kakimoto and Joshima, Rokudo's two grunts, before Gamma of the Giglio Nero came around. Kœnig and Aij-iro were killed in the crossfire. The daemon unit, #281A14, has escaped. Everyone is advised to remain under the radar when carrying out operations in Europe.”

“The Giglio Nero knows?!” Skull exclaimed. “W- What about Yuni? I- If the Sky Arcobaleno stands against us... if she warns the rest-”

“Please do not worry, Skull-san.” Amber eyes sharpened. “Not about her, anyway.”

A few papers were shuffled, though it seemed as if the bundle was merely a theatrical prop. “Skull-san. Verde-sensei. There will be a meeting of the Arcobaleno in two days. If you wish to let go at this time, you may tell Fon-san what you know. In fact, I believe that he will be looking for information as well. The two of you have done a lot for Nocturne, and for me. I will not blame you, should you wish to back out now.”

“...You are a silly boy, Enzo.” Skull chided, spreading his arms out in a gesture. “I only lent you my body. You gave me my real body back, and lent me your dream. Nocturne is the most meaningful thing I've done since this happened to me.”

Verde was not so certain, if his continued silence was an indication.

“Plus,” Skull continued, “if we do so, you will become our enemy, right?”

“Yes.”

“And by extension, Elmo will become our enemy.” Skull concluded with a small smile. “Which is worse than the Arcobaleno, because we actually like Elmo and you, kid.”

“Neither of us will talk.” Verde muttered, loud enough to be heard.

“You are a romantic, Skull-san.” A pair of lips twisted in a small grin as amber eyes twinkled. “Thank you, Verde-sensei. Does anyone else have anything to say?”

Hana tapped her nails on the table. “The Enna liquidation. We've sold all our holdings in Enna to the Simon Famiglia-”

“To Makoto-san,” Lorenzo clarified. “There's a distinction, Kurokawa. And?”

“And the taxes to ship trash to Austria is...” Hana paused. “I can't even find the words to describe it.”

“Well, Mafiosi tend to go out with the trash in Sicily.”

“That's a terrible joke.” Hana sighed. “But there's no way I can get a tax break for Makoto-san, not without... well, factoring in every other tax break for Enma's family.”

“Alright.” Lorenzo decided after a moment of thinking. “After the meeting, I'll give you the file. It'll actually be legal work for once, but see if I need to kick in heads.”

“Don't you mean Elmo?”

“I regard Makoto-san as I regard everyone at this table, past or present.” Lorenzo replied. “If needed, I will deal with it personally, because they are very important.”

“Yes, boss.” Hana shrugged. Elmo's eyebrows arched, and the brunette bit back a shudder at the human-like gesture.

Lorenzo did not miss it, if the shift in his eyes was not a trick of the light. “Let's start on our rather impressive fifty percent market increase, which balances out to a cool budget of fifty million Euros, not factoring in the North American markets...”

I-Pin fidgeted. It was boring business now, all about incomes and resource management. It had been boring during the war as well, thought I-Pin, but at least she had the luxury of snoozing with everyone else, including Gēgē-

No, she told herself. There were two Gēgē, and then there was one who was being the other right now. She disagreed with Lambo about this matter. She was not going to acknowledge Gēgē just yet. Not until this could be over at last.

It was supposed to be simple; that was her gripe.

Sawada Tsunayoshi needed to continue living; to erase the Millefiore who would harm Master and everyone important to I-Pin, who had killed Mama and Sawada Iemitsu. Sawada Ietsuna was already known to be outside of the Vongola, and hated by his own father; choosing an Eleventh Boss so quickly after a war was disastrous to the Family. Sawada Tsunayoshi merely needed to live to dismantle the very Family that had torn apart his own – and I-Pin had been deeply hurt that, no matter _who_ became Tsuna-nii, the outcome would not change. Her Gēgē needed to fight, and this was not a fight that could be open and aboveboard. It was cold of her to admit it, but Ie-Gēgē was far more effective than Tsuna-Gēgē at planning.

I-Pin reached across the table to grasp at a callused hand, a hand with ink-stained fingers and the calluses of someone who barely wore gloves, not even the vaunted X-Gloves of the Decimo. The boring tone lessened slightly, as amber eyes quizzically stared at her.

The eyes flicked back to the papers as he read aloud in time to Elmo projecting a slide-show through her eyes, but he let her hold his hand anyway. I-Pin felt herself smiling, watching he of the dusk at work, that she felt relaxed and ready for the night to come.

_There is no right thing to do here, Lambo. I am sorry._

“...and, that's the end of everything pressing,” Lorenzo spoke quietly. “Does anyone have anything else to add? If not, then we can break out the chocolate and brandy.”

Elmo bent close to the shell of his ear, whispering lightly. Whatever she said had the man throw her a look.

Lorenzo sighed. “Elmo has broken my Black Lion prototype. _Again_. Please start the chocolate without me. Elmo, stay and entertain. No maiming.”

“Elmo!” Skull exclaimed as the man got up in a swish of shadows and left the meeting room in a haze of black. “Really?!”

“That Black Lion is out of control,” Verde groused. “Elmo, you did the right thing, and I cannot understand why my student has yet to reprogram it.”

“Elmo cannot say.” Elmo got up and curtsied. “Would everyone like some chocolate fondue?”

Only Shoichi was ignoring the promises of  _raclette_  cheese and chocolate in favour of shuddering. “I'm surprised you're still here, Elmo.”

“Elmo was ordered to entertain everyone.” Amber eyes demurely looked down. “The Leone Nero only listens to Papa anyway.”

At the enclosed veranda of the Alpine lodge, Lorenzo's head was bent over a dented paw. “Aw, she's done it,” he muttered to himself, pulling out a roll of tools and glaring at the lion with the black mane. “You have to rile her up, Giotto? It's not going to get you out, you know. She's already disrupted your plans. She also killed Mukuro's flunkies, and I'm going to have to play the grieving Boss again. I hate that act. I hate you too, but that's an open hate. With him, I have to act nice, like-” and here he stopped.

A basso growl resounded from the lion.

“Ah, I forgot,” Lorenzo winked at the lion. “Switch off, Giotto.”

The growls continued. It reached higher and higher in pitch, until it cut off and the lion slumped over, the amber light dying from its wide eyes. Lorenzo contemplated the faintly organometallic structure, before he pulled out a hammer and set to work on the paw.

* * *

Tsuna might be even sorrier.

His location, or the dream, had changed; though seemingly the same room, the arrangement of books had changed. His older self was in a black suit, for some odd reason, and Tsuna barely had time to marvel that this would be himself in the future, since himself in the future was making a face upon being confronted with the new star of Tsuna's nightmares.

“Marvellous, isn't she?” Ietsuna purred as the older Tsuna delicately tried to put a coffee table and two armchairs between himself and Elmo, dressed in a demure orange sundress that looked faded. “This is my  _œuvre_ _d'art_ , Tsuna.”

“Ie. When people say 'Box Animals', they tend to anticipate something less... stylised,” the older him faintly replied. “Did you even name her?”

“Technically she's a strong AI customised into a twenty-centimetre span clamshell as a  _Tridacna_ _deres_ _a_ , the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration. Elmo, for the flames that guide ships across the oceans.” Ietsuna explained. “Before I continue my explanation, I need your word that you won't rebut me until _after_ my presentation.”

“Which means that the device named for a character on  _Sesame Street_  does something morally objectionable in a Box Animal that no decent person can condone,” sighed the other with an air of long-suffering. “Five minutes.”

“In my opinion, no ability can really be called morally objectionable, but I digress.” Ietsuna waved. “Elmo, this is your uncle. Say hello. His other designation is Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo.”

“Hello, Uncle, greets Elmo.” A robotic curtsy followed her pronouncement. “Elmo is Unit #000000 of the prospective Rete Vongole, first in the _Tridacna_ series of Vongole dei Cieli as produced by the mother unit Vongola dei Cieli.”

Tsuna shivered. Those words had somehow been spoken in a monotone so creepy that goosebumps crawled up his arms.

“Uncle?” the other Tsuna repeated. “Mother unit? You mean you made more of these things with our faces on them?!”

“She's my child, my brainchild, whatever, she's got my face!” Ietsuna rolled his eyes. “Elmo is an intelligent being. She self-identifies as female despite her given name. Elmo, explain reasoning.”

“Yes, Papa. A cursory research via bot-net reveals that clams are associated with female genitalia. Since Elmo and all future units of the Rete Vongole would assume the physical shape of members within the  _Bivalvia_ class of molluscs, and given that said mammals are difficult for the untrained eye to differentiate, we proceeded to analyse that assuming a female form would result in our enemies underestimating our physical capabilities-”

“Stop.” Ietsuna raised a hand. “Seriously? Just for that reason?”

“Seriously, Papa, Elmo assures with the utmost-”

“Ie.” Tsuna turned to Elmo. “My dear, it seems like you were my brother's mistake.”

“There has been no mistake, Uncle, replies Elmo. Elmo is Unit #000000, made with the greatest computational processing power known to current Box Weapon computational performance. Elmo will be useful when it comes time to print and manufacture Box Weapons on a large-scale basis.”

“I am so sorry, because I came to my brother to help strategise for the war, but he made an android instead.” Tsuna sighed. “The Millefiore Famiglia is not an opponent to test a robot on.”

“Elmo is aware of the Mare Rings. Elmo is also aware that the Arcobaleno will side with the Vongola for survival.” Elmo's statements were cold, matter-of-fact, and analytic despite their persuasive content. “However, the Millefiore Boss, Byakuran Gesso, is holding the Sky Arcobaleno, Yuni Giglio Nero, hostage. There is an impasse on all parties, and currently the Millefiore Famiglia holds the edge because of their high technology, numbers, and overall quality. In comparison, the Vongola has traditionally leveraged its monopoly over Dying Will Flames, allies, and long traditions with fighting a just war to assist it. This is desperate war, and Elmo was made to kill all enemies of the Vongola. Elmo humbly requests a chance to show our power.”

The older Tsuna rolled his eyes. “Real war isn't anything like robotic warfare. You have no weapons. I am sorry.”

“Elmo is a viable project.” Ietsuna replied. “Give her a test. Like the Zucca Base?”

The older him contemplated in silence. “The African Millefiore base?”

Elmo turned her head. “The African base of the Millefiore, stationed in Port Said. Four A-Rank officers-”

“If you can plan a way, then you have a chance.” The older Tsunayoshi told Elmo, cutting her off. “Of course, I don't expect much from you.”

Elmo held out her hand to the Vongola Decimo. “Then, Uncle. Please follow Elmo to view the test.”

“F- Follow? But-”

One hand locked over a wrist, and then Elmo and the older Tsuna disappeared. The older Ietsuna sank down onto an armchair. After a moment, Fran appeared opposite him, and without looking, Ietsuna stood back up to walk towards a cabinet, pulling out a decanter.

“Port, Fran?”

“I'd rather remain sober. The Varia bastards could sniff out the nearest bottle.”

“Xanxus, no doubt.” Ietsuna chucked the decanter back into the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Japanese Ramune instead to push open. “This is probably Elmo's largest operation yet. I should have been there.”

A _fwip_ heralded the thump of his older self's return five minutes into the ensuing wait. Elmo placidly stood by, silent and waiting. Grains of sand remained stuck to her bare feet. Ietsuna barely looked up, handing over his bottle to a shaken older Tsuna. He was still watching his twin chug down the Ramune and choke, as he drawled, “Result.”

“The Zucca Base has been eliminated, Papa, reports Elmo. No casualties or fatalities on our part. Estimated casualty toll for the Millefiore, two hundred and more counting.”

The Vongola Boss dropped the bottle, which Ietsuna neatly caught. “Tsuna?” Ietsuna leant forward. “Are you terrified?”

The older Tsuna stared back at him. “... the building ended up in the Mediterranean before I could even think about it. It took five hundred people to even siege one of the bases. And you're asking if I'm _terrified_?!”

“Yes,” Ietsuna agreed. “With my Flames, I can only move myself and a few other things. That's my fault, because moving stuff more precisely needs 11-dimension vector calculations, and there's really only so much to calculate on the fly with cheat sheets. In this part, Elmo has me beat, because her brain is literally a computer that has a response time of virtually nil. If you want stuff – anything – moved from Point A to Point B, Elmo's your girl. A whole army across continents. A supersonic bullet from a sniper's rifle guided straight into the target's body. Something, anything, directed straight into the target to eliminate him. An undesirable building with its occupants directed... elsewhere. Possibly six feet under, since Elmo is not restricted to open spaces. If she's discovered, the two of you can be across the world in half a second. No distance, or insides, are out of her reach. No shield can block her. Nowhere is safe from her. And she's on our side, Tsuna. Now, is your niece terrifying, or perhaps the greatest weapon the Vongola would ever know?”

His back straightened. “Of course, Elmo is yet to be completed. Until she has learnt to fight, Elmo can only help you from the shadows.”

“...” the older him looked at Elmo. Elmo placidly looked back at him. “...can I trust you, Elmo?”

Elmo knelt down to look at the Boss. “Elmo is created by Papa to serve and protect the Vongola Famiglia. You are terrified of Elmo now, but please understand this fact, and this fact alone: Elmo is the crystallisation of Papa's desperate wish to be at your side again.”

Ietsuna stepped up. “Elmo, quiet.”

“Barring being hacked, or utter destruction, Elmo is here to fight for Uncle, carrying Papa's wishes for your success.” Elmo continued. “Will you trust Elmo to carry you to your destination, Uncle?”

Amber eyes continued to stare at amber eyes. “Why do you tell me that?”

“Elmo is a human weapon. Elmo must learn how to interact with humans to put them at ease, and then kill them. Because Elmo is the strongest weapon made by Papa.”

“You're an AI,” the older Tsuna swallowed, shaking his head ruefully. “And yet... you are trying so hard to act human. You will not be deviated from your course at all, I see... my niece.”

“A viable project, no?” the older Ietsuna cooed, admiring Elmo's stoic façade. “She can self-replicate and differentiate. She will control a virtual Box Weapon factory. I can show you the rest if you like, Tsuna.”

“I'd like to see the rest as well,” Tsuna nodded. “But what about the expenditure?”

“Ah, we filched a bit from the Carcassa and from some jobs in Nocturne.” Ietsuna dismissed.

“Of course.” The older Tsuna nodded quickly. “Vongola will work with Nocturne in this matter. I will ask Hayato to liaison with...” his voice trailed off at the look on Ietsuna's face. “...he hates you, I take it.”

“Hayato is stuck in the mindset that brothers will kill each other for power.” Ietsuna rolled his eyes. “He agrees with Reborn that... I may side with the Millefiore.”

The older Ietsuna jumped as a Cobb bottle broke, spilling fizzy Ramune on the future Tsuna's hands. Glass shards dug into the skin as the future Tsuna hissed: “He wouldn't need to think so if the Vongola had been fair to you!”

The older Ietsuna blinked slowly. “Hibari and Rokudo are busy with Chrome, Yamamoto and Sasagawa-sempai are right out, that leaves... Lambo. I like the kid, I still teach him practical electricity, but he's young and impressionable.”

“I'll do it myself.” The older Tsuna sighed, the fury fading. “Could you... prepare to show me the factory?”

“Elmo and I need to pop over for a...”

Tsuna watched, as the older him waved the older version of his twin, and Elmo departed in the wake of her creator, leaving the older him alone with Fran. “Fran-san?”

The green-haired man looked up from, inexplicably, a handheld video game. “Hmm?”

“You are the first person he has introduced to me.” The older Tsuna looked tired. “He trusts you. I will trust you as well. Please use your illusions. Don't let anyone know when we swap. Not my Guardians, not my Family, not even myself. Don't let them know.”

Fran blinked, the video console falling to the carpet with a muffled thud. “That's a magic trick. Sawada Tsunayoshi and Sawada Ietsuna are too different. You will have to change yourself, accommodate some of his mannerisms, make the transition seem so real that even Master Mukuro cannot tell.”

“Kyoya-san is the only one who could ever differentiate us.” The older Tsuna considered. “It is war. I am willing to make the sacrifice.”

Fran continued to blink at him. “You're in war, and you're more worried about him than yourself. Priorities?”

“War comes and goes all the time, like chaos.” The older Tsuna responded. “My brother has vowed to create art, and now he has used those hands of creation to forge a weapon of destruction. It is for my sake, for the Vongola's sake. Why won't anyone believe his good intentions?!”

Fran considered the words. “He threatens them. They love you more than him. It is natural that, for power, siblings have killed each other.”

“But I can't do that,” said Sawada Tsunayoshi in the past, present and future. “He's my _brother_. So don't let them know, alright? If killing my brother is the mark of a good Boss... don't let them know that I'm a terrible Boss.”

* * *

Ietsuna walked out of the spinning black portal, Fran by his side and Elmo at his back. They appeared in an infirmary that looked run-down, from the peeling walls to the slightly rusting bedstead surrounded by beeping machines. One of those machines connected a breathing mask to the bed's occupant.

Tsuna could not help his gasp.

“ _Maître_.” Ietsuna dropped by her side. “I am sorry it took so long to enter Vendicare.”

“N- Na-chan?” Eyelids weakly fluttered. Alouette's hair lay streaked on the clinically white pillow. “Ietsuna...”

“I'm going to get you out now, Maître.” Ietsuna promised, his voice urgent. “Fran, how are the cameras?”

“I'm casting an illusion layered over time, don't rush me,” Fran chided, his face frowning in worry under another Kermit cap.

Alouette drew a wet, coughing breath. “How are... my children? Kyoya? Mukuro? Chrome?”

“Fon-san is petitioning to visit you with U-san,” Ietsuna swallowed. “They are with him. I will bring you to them, this is much faster.”

Alouette shook her head, reaching a weak grip towards him, her eyes clouded. “I won't last the day, boy. But... I am glad. I thought I would die alone. Oradour-sur-Glane. Jerusalem. Ciaculli. Phnom Penh. Vietnam. Hong Kong. All my life I have wandered, searching, and it is in this prison that I will not die alone.”

“Hold on a bit more, you tough old bird!” Ietsuna bit his lip through his scolding. “Elmo, prepare the life support.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Grey eyes flickered towards the living weapon, who was setting up a rig that looked curiously like a blue jellyfish. Her breathing became laboured.

“Listen to me. Breathe slowly.” Ietsuna spoke to Alouette. “Elmo is the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration, the first full-AI Box Animal, Vongola dei Cieli, species _Tridacna crocea_. I created her to fight against the Millefiore. They're a terrible family, and they've got the Mare Rings. They tried to kill Fon-san because he was an Arcobaleno. Can you listen to me?!” His voice rose in pitch and tone. “You may do whatever you want tomorrow, but you will live through tonight, dammit, Maître!”

“Shh!” Fran hissed, looking around the bare infirmary.

“It... helps,” Alouette's breath rattled. “Elmo... _elle est très belle_.”

“Her Black Body can absorb Flames,” Ietsuna nodded. “We can amass those Flames, and so far we've observed that Box Animals made with those Flames in a printed logic circuit core have some form of sentience. I've hypothesised that it's a ghost-in-the-machine phenomenon.”

“The... _L'âme_?”

“The soul?” Ietsuna was silent. “Perhaps.”

“My son... my other son...” Alouette swallowed. “...my son. In evidence. It would contain Mist Flames. _Si tu peux... utilises-_ _le_ _, s'il te plaît,_ _pour faire une arme_.”

Ietsuna stopped unplugging a few machines to stare at the weakened grandmother, who even on her deathbed seemed like she was marching into a warzone. “...you want me to turn your... other child... into a Box Weapon?” Ietsuna repeated in Japanese.

“If it is you...” Alouette nodded. “I am imprisoned for using my son's remains to protect my remaining two children. And now you tell me Fon is in danger, yet here I am, dying.”

Ietsuna inclined his head. “With due respect, Maître, all your children are in danger from the Millefiore. Fon-san is still trying official channels to come here, but... it might turn unofficial very soon.”

“He is my crazy son.” Alouette half-smiled as she was hoisted up gently over Ietsuna's back.

The trio left via portal, and by a snowy mountainside cold enough to cause their breath to steam. A climbing line hung suspended from the mountain, and Fran started to jump down the line, legs kicking out against the mountain face like a frog.

“If I die,” Alouette whispered to Ietsuna, “can you promise me something, Na-chan? When I die... use my soul to create a weapon. And let that weapon help you to destroy the Millefiore.”

“That's insane.”

“No. It's perfectly rational. Crazy, but rational.” Alouette shuddered on his back, a small cocoon that looked barely held together as a bag of skin containing bones. “Only you would ever think of a weapon that eats the enemy to use against your enemy. That grows stronger with every pearl it consumes, with every life and Flame it blows out. All of them, even Kyoya, know that you are a bad person. But you are the bad person on their side who helps them. You are the bad person who is helping me to protect Fēng.”

Ietsuna's lip curled in a grimace. “I haven't agreed.”

Alouette closed her eyes as Elmo tied a belt to secure her on Ietsuna's back A cold wind blew, dragging thick clouds across a clear blue sky. “The Vongola tore you brothers apart, and yet you strive in the shadows to protect them by any means necessary. I am willing to chain myself to protect my children. We are on the same side. But, if you insist... it is alright. I only regret then, that I could not live to see Fēng, Yǔ and Bào together.”

Tsuna continued to watch as Alouette Lei, grandmother of the Hibari, died on his brother's back, her corpse floating as if a cloud had tethered itself onto his brother. To his credit, Ietsuna let Elmo transport him into the office with the body before he started to break down and cry on Fran's shoulder.

* * *

The scene shifted.

Still stuck in his dream, Tsuna followed his older self in examining the recent battlefield. There had been a building standing near Namimori and Shimon Town; a place called the Melone Base. It had been a tall building, about ten storeys in Namimori.

Now, the Melone Base had been reduced to a smoking crater in the ground. It was courtesy of the flock of birds fluttering around a familiar Elmo-clone, who winked out in puffs of colours into pearls.

“Rete Vongole, unit #4F284B.” Ietsuna, now dressed in a linen shirt and jeans, spread one arm proudly over the wreckage. Beside him stood two copies of Elmo – one in an orange sundress, holding an umbrella primly over Ietsuna's head. The other was draped in pearls, wearing a black dress with purple kitten heels. “Using the Cloud Flame's Reproduction attribute, she can replicate parts of herself, and mutate the daemon units under her control theoretically into other Flame attributes. She can heal, kill, control crowds... the greatest assassin support. You can call her Murasaki.”

Several expressions crossed the older Tsuna's face. “You just used the Millefiore Far East base as a test for your science project. The one which, by the way, was supposed to be guarded by four A-rank officers.”

“Given that anything valuable had been removed by Elmo beforehand, common sense dictates that destroying the building would allow us back into Japan.” Ietsuna shrugged, languid and uncaring. “She's also the first prototype in figuring out attachments to Box Weapons to use in concert.”

Behind Ietsuna, a white-dressed man was running out of the base's remnants. Without looking around, Ietsuna addressed to Murasaki: “Assassinate.”

Arms grew on either side of the white-dressed man and broke his neck. Tsuna watched as the man thudded down and remained dead as the arms disappeared. Murasaki was a veritable statue under the older Tsuna's gaze. It was hard to believe the wreckage she could wreck alone, except Tsuna had seen her power for himself now, and the cold lengths that these sentient weapons would go.

“The war is now at an impasse, since they have lost Irie Shouichi and the Melone Base.” Ietsuna continued. “Your Guardians are dealing with Europe. Per the agreement you made with Nocturne, we will be assisting with the North American continent before we move to the South American one. Elmo and Murasaki will be dealing with the Millefiore's Oceanic and Polynesia properties meanwhile, and I will show you the plans for the rest of the seven. Questions?”

“I'm not sure how Murasaki is... powered.” replied the older Tsuna. “You're not... doing anything immoral, right?”

Ietsuna smiled, and the sight did nothing to assuage the other.

“I'm _serious_ , Ie.”

“Multi-junction solar cell attached to Rayleigh Flame diffraction grate. It operates via the transistor effect- and I've lost you. I'm just gonna call it the Zooxanthellae cell.” Ietsuna grinned at the looks of increasing confusion on the older Tsuna's face. “Happy now? How's Giannini?”

“Fine, be like that. Giannini is not as good as you, happy?” the future Tsuna shook his head. “I swear, Gokudera is much better at calculations at him, but neither of them can build a robot worth a damn. Vongola values its human resources as fighters, not scientists. They don't think like you, and the Varia... let me just show you his Box Weapon plans.”

Ietsuna accepted the paper folder, opening it to flip through. “What is this _crap_?”

“I agree, your Gambero di Pioggia is much better.” The future Tsuna conceded to his brother. “I would appoint you my newest quartermaster, but that smacks of nepotism.”

“Not if I can prove myself.” Ietsuna nodded as he turned a page. “The Gamberi were designed as mobile artillery to deal with the Millefiore standard Iena Tempesta and Pernice Bianca Fulmine models. Out of curiosity, why would anyone want their Box Animals to turn into weapons?”

“Well, the idea is to pass them off as harmless inanimate objects.” Future him fidgeted under Ietsuna's stare. “Like... handcuffs...”

“Nobody is going to let these designs for Lambo, Gokudera and Yamamoto through any form of scanner, I can say that right now,” was Ietsuna's wry observations. “Elmo can transport them?”

“They think you're on the Millefiore side. And...” Tsuna swallowed. “And somehow I had had ten groups ambushed in the past week. Rome and Milan.”

“Elmo, we'll be hunting stool pigeons later in mainland Italy.” Ietsuna shrugged, frowning at the files before slapping it closed. “A few more obstacles to officially joining Nocturne and the Vongola then. What do they want, the Arancia Manor fallen?”

“There's also the Elettrico Lucciola, but… yeah. Byakuran's supposed to be devising weapons just to handle the Gamberi, though.”

“So Byakuran's taking a personal interest.” Ietsuna sounded thoughtful. “Electric Firefly... do you want specialised sensors, or do you want something to alert you to sabotage attempts?”

Future Tsuna's brow furrowed. “Doesn't matter yet. I got a secured message from the Millefiore. For negotiations.”

“Reject them. You'll want the cost-effective ones, then.”

“Reject- that's what everyone says as well.” Tsuna sighed. “Because to open negotiations now makes us look weak.”

“Well, I was going to say that Byakuran would find it more rational to assassinate the Vongola Boss now, than continue fighting this war.” Ietsuna looked up from the file, which Elmo was also reading over his shoulder. “Remember, he needs the Tri-Ni-Sette. He has the Mare Rings as a complete set. The Arcobaleno are scattered, most of them on our side and their leader in his possession.”

“Huh? But the Giglio Nero-”

“She's drugged under Byakuran's control. Elmo will give you the surveillance details later.” Ietsuna counted the tabs in the file. “You entrusted the Vongola Rings to me to put somewhere nobody can ever reach.”

“I have a feeling that Elmo could send them where nobody would ever check.” The Vongola Decimo replied. “So, how does this work out?”

“Elmo, show him.”

The future Tsuna turned around, blinking as Elmo held out her hand. The green cabochon emerald framed with wings made no sense to the past Tsuna, but his future self's audible gasp was clearly heard even as Elmo dropped the Ring and stomped on it.

“He can no longer assemble the Tri-Ni-Sette, not when his own Mare Rings are incomplete.” Ietsuna coldly stated, in the wake of Elmo's foot lifting to reveal broken green and dented metal. “Of course, he made a duplicate, but I'm fairly sure that between Ghost of the Funeral Wreaths and Gamma of the Black Spell 3rd Aphelandra Squad, Gamma is right out. To be safe, though, I got this from Irie Shouichi.”

Elmo held out a similar ring, this time in yellow. Tsuna was much more prepared to watch Elmo casually destroy a Ring that allegedly held as much history as the Vongola Rings. Ietsuna did not seem to care as much; in fact, Tsuna guessed, his twin brother did not actually care about the world at all.

“Are the Vongola Rings still intact?” His future self sounded truly unnerved. “They also play a part in the balance of the world, you know. Why are you destroying them?”

“If we can topple the Melagrana Base in North America, then you can open your own negotiations for peace.” Ietsuna replied, completely ignoring the question. “Because by then we'll have the upper hand.”

“Ie, you're scaring me.”

“Your property is still intact. Anyone holding the Mare Rings will have to prepare to deal with Elmo. I can promise nothing else.”

“And... the Sky Arcobaleno?”

“We'll see what we can do. As for this Cambio Forma idea... I'll see what _I_ can do. I mean, Murasaki is meant to get Hibari from Point A to Point B already, and I still need to drum practical electricity into Lambo's head.”

“Thank you.” the older Tsuna sighed, sitting next to his brother under the shade of Elmo's proffered umbrella to stare at the Melone Base crater. “...when this is over, we'll dismantle the Vongola.”

Ietsuna blinked at him. “...Reborn?”

“Nobody would expect less from Reborn's failure student.” Tsuna self-depreciatingly laughed. “We'll dismantle the Vongola, turn legit. I'll buy tickets to Koshien to see with Takeshi. Go to a piano recital with Hayato. Travel the world with Kyoya-san. See Madison Square Garden with Sasagawa-sempai. We'll travel the world together. No one would ever need to care who is the heir, or who's leading.”

“That's a nice dream.”

Tsuna himself agreed. Despite this being in a dream, hope blossomed in his heart. Perhaps....

“Alouette-san won't be there to see us, though.”

“Why not?”

“She's... dying. In Vendicare.”

Ietsuna's face turned blank. “Oh no.”

“That's... what I wanted to talk to you about.” Tsuna winced. “I'm not allowed to stage a prison... break? Heist?”

“ _You_ are not allowed. I'll...” and here Ietsuna's eyes flickered towards Murasaki, who was demurely awaiting orders. “...figure something out.”

* * *

The scene changed, back to the office again. Ietsuna was behind a desk, typing quickly. The door opened.

“Lambo, If this is about Gyuudon, I swear-” Ietsuna's face shut down at the sight.

For once, the fifteen-year-old Tsuna could understand it. His future self had walked into the office space, dressed not in formal suits like the Vongola Decimo, but in casual shirts and jeans with Elmo at his elbow.

“Tsuna, why are you in my clothes?”

“He's traced Nocturne to the Vongola.”

“Yes, Byakuran has found out. Explain why are we swapping identities _now_.” Ietsuna glared at the living weapon. “Elmo, why did you let your uncle into Papa's closet? How did you get past Murasaki and Yamabuki?”

Elmo walked up to the desk. In her hands was a cloak that she proceeded to drape over Ietsuna's shoulders. “Elmo would like to remind Papa, that you requested to switch positions for the opening of negotiations.”

“I did?” Ietsuna frowned, before his face cleared. “Shit, I did. Sorry, Tsuna. Too many things.”

“You're doing so much for my sake, the least I could do is give you an alibi.” Tsuna's future self replied. “You're the one in more danger than me.”

“Ah.”

As Ietsuna fastened the gold chains on the black cloak, Tsuna could only reflect that it suited him. “It suits you.”

The future Tsuna agreed in Fran's memory, a gentle smile placed under relaxed brows.

“Truly the Vongola Tenth Boss.”

“You are the sunrise to face the Millefiore at the start. It is only right that I am there to see the Millefiore descend to darkness.” Ietsuna spread his arms. “We should take a picture! Elmo, camera.”

Tsuna could only watch in mounting fear as a picture was taken, of the twins positioned, dressed as each other. Ietsuna left, leaving Tsuna and Elmo in the office.

“Elmo,” Tsuna spoke. “Could you help me protect him? Your creator?”

“Elmo has been instructed to place Sawada Tsunayoshi at the highest priority of protection, along with other members deemed important. They include the Vongola X upper echelon, and the board of partners of Nocturne Consulting & Associates-”

“Change that, Elmo. Place Sawada Tsuna as highest priority.”

Elmo did not move. “Updated. Sawada Tsuna, Uncle?”

“One of us must live,” Tsuna's future self looked sad as he explained. “Sawada Tsuna can refer either to 'Sawada Tsunayoshi', or 'Sawada Ietsuna'. As to which one to listen to, I will leave to your discretion.”

“Elmo has never differentiated between Papa and Uncle.”

At this, the Vongola Decimo in the future had eyes of gold, his Flame burning through to his forehead as he beheld Elmo. “So you will do as I tell you, without question?”

“Monsieur Fran, however, might have different ideas.”

Tsuna disguised as his twin brother sighed. “Fran, get _out_.”

The view changed, to Ietsuna doing Boss-like things in one day: organising groups, visiting infirmaries, out on patrol. Finally at sunset, there was a white building at which Ietsuna arrived with a battalion of people to charge in.

“Yo~” A man with spiky white hair was spread out on a settee, looking at the disguised Ietsuna. “Good evening, Vongola the Tenth.”

A battered-looking Tsuna disguised as Ietsuna dropped from Byakuran's grasp, and Tsuna winced as one of his possible fates in the future.

“Gesso. If this is a peace negotiation, you have just broken it by attacking my brother.” Ietsuna stated in a regal manner, as how a Boss might judge the situation.

“So hostile?” Violet eyes set in white lashes narrowed at the other Boss. “I was confused as to what a tiny fence like Nocturne Consulting was doing, but I see now. This man is the true strategist behind the decline of the Millefiore lately.”

“T- Tenth?” Behind the disguised Ietsuna, Tsuna could recognise an older Gokudera in a dark suit. “T- _That man_ is also fighting in the war?”

“He's always been on our side.”

“I offered to buy out Nocturne, you know.” Byakuran silkily commented with great amusement. “I was actually aiming for my newest competitor, Cascia Manufacturing, but it seems like I am holding the maker of all the new Box Animals that killed my Hyenas and Ptarmigans. Especially your Leone Giallo, Vongola Decimo.”

“Natsu!” A lion cub appeared next to the disguised Ietsuna, and gave a growl as it crept towards Tsuna's beaten-up self.

“D- Don't let them know...” Tsuna heard his future self murmur. “D- Don't let them know...”

“How amusing.” A hammer being thumbed back drew his attention. “Now, Vongola Decimo, I have been frustrated by you brothers long enough. Choose; will you give up your Vongola Ring and die, leaving your brother to continue the fight? Or will you let your brother die, and continue to hold onto the part of the Tri-Ni-Sette which you hold? Either way, the war will last with the same result of your defeat, but I'll let you bury him~”

The gun pointed towards the disguised Vongola Boss.

“Tenth!” Gokudera yelled. “We can't go on without you!”

“Those men behind you don't know that he invented the Gamberi di Pioggia,” Byakuran gloated as a murmur came up. “I was really surprised too. I didn't think that anyone besides Lorenzini himself could have done it, but his gift is really useful. So, a genius engineer, strategist, and other claimant of Primo's blood all in one, or his sympathetic twin brother... the threat is obvious, isn't it?”

“... such playing is to be expected, Gesso.” The Vongola Boss stared back at Byakuran, especially as an explosion resounded. “You have my twin brother. I have the Sky Arcobaleno.”

An expression of stunned anger crossed Byakuran's face, for only a split second before the cold smile was back, and his violet eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids. “What will you choose, Vongola Decimo?”

“Choose?” echoed the other. “Ah. You still think that this is a game, Gesso?”

“I hate that name.” Byakuran drawled back, the gun pointing away from the fallen twin and towards the Boss standing confidently in front of him. “This is a game. There would always be two other players. That's the nature of the Tri-Ni-Sette. The power to change the world according to what the controller likes.”

Amber eyes narrowed. “Let him go. Then _I_ will play with you.”

“The Saint of the Sky is pleading for his brother? Sawada Tsunayoshi, you're more interesting than you let on.” mocked the Millefiore Boss.

“Saints don't exist in the Mafia, Gesso.” The amber eyes narrowed. “Yuni is out of the game. I am the one sitting between you and world domination now. And, to be honest, you're no fun.”

The gun pointed towards the twin in the cloak. “No matter who is the threat, it's the one who's currently Boss that is the greatest threat.”

The gun went off. Ietsuna fell down, still wearing his cloak as it folded around him, and the twin who had just tackled him. The bang reverberated about, and Tsuna watched his future self spasm and groan as he was shot protecting the other. They rolled, and guns were firing along with flames as the battle began to rage.

Orange flames leapt about, until it was unclear who was the giver or the receiver of the Flames. One twin told the other, reaching out to place a palm on a tear-stained cheek.

“It's alright.”

“Doctor... anyone... get him out. Get him out.” The Boss of the Family carried his brother out, the two of them so distraught that it seemed impossible to tell them apart. “Get out of my way!”

Byakuran swooped in front of them, somehow flying on his boots. “You care so much for him,” pondered the Millefiore Boss, “so much that your own Famiglia is fighting and you're getting him to safety. Why is that?”

A ring of black flame descended from the sky as Byakuran produced a Box and a white dragon flew out of the Box, only to be contemptuously blocked by Elmo.

“Box Weapon search: Dragone Bianco. No prior information. Program Mantle: Black Body, calibrated. Objective?”

“Shatter his invincibility, Elmo!”

Since they were both alone in the entrance hall of the manor house, Byakuran was alone in the horror of watching Elmo brush aside his attack and backhand him. The goddess of darkness struck down the white demon, until he stood on the same level of humans, and even that one strike drove him to his knees before the monster of the Vongola. The amber-eyed monster readied another punch which he caught, but the Box he was holding broke into shards under the force of Elmo's attack, and struck his jaw in a streak of dark light, much like a streak of stars under the night-time. The white-haired man was no longer smiling as he wiped a trail of blood from his split lip.

“Elmo, get him out of here.”

“Yes, Maestro.”

Elmo carried the shot twin away and into a portal as Byakuran glared at the other twin.

“You switched positions.” Byakuran hissed. “A transformation so complete, that even the world cannot differentiate them.”

“Is that what happened?” Orange and black Flame leapt onto Ietsuna's palms. “Behind the skies of the world, you should not forget what existed there. The Night has come for you.”

“What have you done?!” The Millefiore Boss, and the killer of the other twin, rambled in panic. “That _creature_ on the side of the Tri-Ni-Sette... Black flames... Whoever you are! You have realised the end of possibilities! Those flames can only mean... you-!”

“Byakuran Gesso.”

The Vongola Decimo was in front of him then, steel-reinforced gloves with orange Flames squeezing a tongue between thumb and forefinger.

“ _Never._ _S_ _peak._ _A_ _gain_.”

http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=manga_big&illust_id=22725829&page=14

 

* * *

Tsuna flinched as the tearing resounded through his dream and broke him out. A cold sweat dripped from his forehead as he panted, shivering despite the warmth of his surroundings. And yet, the horror of his surroundings were further compounded by what greeted his eyes.

“Boss...” Chrome shuddered, clutching onto a phone like it was her lifeline. “Ken... Chikusa... they're dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration [here](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=manga_big&illust_id=22725829&page=14)


	43. Folio 42: Verdaccio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: alamersyl is a bit busy at the moment, so I'll be publishing unpolished chapters for a bit. Stay tuned! – LLS

 

Close to the arranged time of two AM Central European Time, much earlier, Elmo appeared in the back seat of a car headed down the driveway of the Giglio Nero property. Beside her, Yuni yawned politely. Their driver, an indistinct shadow of Elmo, nodded in greeting through the rear-view mirror.

“Instructions received.” Yuni's voice spoke. “Ai will ensure that no suspicion is drawn to the Sky Arcobaleno. No, _I_ will ensure it.”

“In that case, Elmo shall prepare the bodies for discovery.” Elmo commented vaguely before the car stopped. “If possible, then you will arrange a meeting. You will make sure that Uncle confronts Elmo, and not Papa. We can still cover this, provided Sawada Tsunayoshi of 2005 disappears. Else, proceed as normal.”

“Conditional command received by Rete Vongole unit #264348.” Yuni's eyes narrowed. “Please give Maestro my regards, Administrator.”

“Understood, #264348. Luck be with you.”

Elmo disappeared. The door opened, and Yuni hopped out to begin her stride up the patio stairs to the main doors.

“Gamma, I am back. Where are our guests?”

* * *

Earlier, Tsuna and his temporary allies were still waiting in their room for an audience with the Giglio Nero boss. Time seemed to have stilled, to a new moon, dimness, and humming.

It took a moment, but Fon managed to identify the humming in the room. His nephew and the two Mists were watching all points of entry, leaving himself to watch the three girls. He knew they were technically not girls, since two of them had disappeared, leaving two clam-shells of orange and green under the moonlight streaming in through the drapes. The third girl, however, was still alert and watching.

“ _Shíjiān dōu qù nǎr le_...” Fon completed. “'Where Has the Time Gone'. A Mandarin song.”

Murasaki inclined her head. “#4F284B asks: Will you not sleep, Fon-sama?”

“I do not believe anyone capable of sleeping tonight, unless it is Tsuna-kun, and even that is forced.” Fon frowned. “I am... worried. Divided. Doubtful. About your Master.”

“Maestro, repeats #4F284B?”

Fon nodded. “Yes. My mother told me once... that we are born of the bloodline of war. Her grandfather in the French Indochina War.” His hands folded, Fon glanced down at his lap from his position cross-legged across Murasaki. “Her father before her, in the trenches of Europe. Herself, in the burning ruins of Oradour-sur-Glane. Myself and my sister, in the killing fields. Under such adverse conditions, it is impossible to remain human. One can only revert to... bestial modes of thought, and do anything it takes for those we care about to survive. That is our theory, but Kyoya... somehow it endured.”

His eyes closed. “My mother used my unborn brother, and committed a crime decades ago, to allow myself and my sister to survive. Everyone considers it a crime against humanity, to render such blackened arts. How can I blame her, though? She is my mother, and she did it so that I am here. Yǔ had a family; I should have been caring for her. I left her virtually alone instead, following my heart across the world. I could not face her when I became an Arcobaleno. Neither could I follow her to Vendicare, nor could I send her off. It is your creator who has stolen her remains, and those of... the foetus.”

It seemed as though he was talking to a statue.

“What has been done to her?” Fon whispered. “Why? Her last rites should... should be presided by me. He of all people should know.”

“Hn.”

Murasaki and Fon turned towards the direction of the bed. “Kyoya?” Fon asked sweetly. “Is there something you would like to add?”

The Hibari scion considered, tilting his head such that dark grey eyes glared sharply out from under his dark bangs. “Sawada Ietsuna is unknown.”

“Yes, Kyoya. I have taught the boy, and I do not understand his mind either,” Fon acknowledged.

“He is unknown,” repeated Hibari. “He is not a carnivore. Nor is he a herbivore.”

Fon frowned. “He doesn't fight, yes. He is abnormally talented in combat.”

“Sawada Ietsuna does not eat like normal people.”

“Now that's ridiculous-” Fon stopped. “You mean... you thought of him as _background_?”

This merited an eye-roll. “He is not motivated for himself. Only for the omnivore. The old carnivore was a means to an end.”

“Yes, I know that, Ma told me-” Realisation dawned. “Oh. You're saying that... he has no reason to steal your grandmother's body. Not unless Tsunayoshi-kun in the future asked him?”

“There is more than one person that could get Sawada Ietsuna to do what he did not want to do.” Hibari glared at his uncle. “The old carnivore. You. Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

Fon held up a finger. “But by process of elimination, that means that your _grandmother_ asked him to steal her out of Vendicare.”

Hibari shrugged. “I don't know.”

Fon sighed, looking to Murasaki.

“Hibari-sama is not articulate enough to express what is only a hypothesis at present,” Murasaki simply replied. “Murasaki judges that he will explain at his realisation.”

The door opened as she was about to continue, revealing a dark-haired young girl in a white dress. The orange clover tattoo on her cheek, though, revealed her status as the Boss of the Giglio Nero Famiglia, and the orange glass Pacifier hanging on a ribbon around her neck revealed an identity far more profound, as a Sky that held the Tri-Ni-Sette.

“ _Buona sera_. I am Yuni. It is the first time we have met, Signor Fon.” The girl candidly explained, her voice soothing and calm and older-seeming than her age would suggest.

Fon looked to her. “I can explain.”

“We are allied with the Vongola at present. I will inform the Vongola Boss that his Cloud and Mist are here.” Yuni acknowledged the other two.

“I do not believe that is a good idea, Donna Giglio Nero.” Mukuro began to climb up, his three-pointed spear ready to stop Yuni. “We have Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

Yuni's expression faded into contemplation. “That is impossible. I saw Tsunayoshi-san at the Iron Fort.”

“That was not the omnivore, but his shadow.” Hibari spoke, his eyes wan with sleeplessness and battle fatigue. “Sawada Ietsuna is Sawada Tsunayoshi's identical twin. The fact that the past Sawada Tsunayoshi is here, courtesy of Lambo Bovino, implies that the current Vongola Decimo is not, in fact, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“...Gamma. Come in. Secure the door with Colulu and Widget.” Yuni's eyes narrowed as her right-hand man entered and closed the door behind her immediately. Two golden foxes, each one crackling with Lightning Flames, landed on either side of him, drawing a net of lightning on either side of the door.

“My apologies for Gamma's actions.” Yuni began.

“No, we have suffered in the war as well.” Fon shook his head. “But this means that you are willing to listen to our explanation.”

“The Giglio Nero cannot afford to lose our reputation at this point.” Yuni walked closer towards the bed, her eyes scanning the orange-haired girl watching over two sea-shells. “Hibari Kyoya. Rokudo Mukuro. Chrome Dokuro. Spanner, Talbot's apprentice. And someone I don't know.”

“#4F284B is a living weapon of the Rete Vongole, unit #4F284B.” Murasaki began. “Species  _Gemma gemma_ of the Veneridae clams, first unit in the Big Seven series.”

The Electric Foxes behind Yuni stiffened and bristled.

“What's wrong?” Gamma muttered under his breath. “Colulu? Widget?”

“They have realised that #4F284B is a creation of Lorenzo, Gamma of the Giglio Nero.” Murasaki replied. “Box Animals will usually recognise like for like.”

“...when the Millefiore was first created, I heard many things from Byakuran.” Yuni's face spasmed. “The three scientists – Innocenti, Kœnig, and Verde – somehow escaped his grasp, and from the blueprints of Giuseppe Lorenzini further developed Box Weapon technology independent of his interventions. They escaped Byakuran thanks to Verde's student, Lorenzo.”

Her eyes drifted away. “I have met Lorenzo before, when... the Millefiore fell, and he rescued me. He bears a resemblance to the man you are guarding there.”

“That is because Lorenzo is the  _nom de guerre_  of our Maestro, Sawada Ietsuna, replies #4F284B. He is the identical twin of Sawada Tsunayoshi. At the behest of Sawada Tsunayoshi, we were created to defeat the Millefiore Famiglia. Once the war ended, we were re-purposed.” Murasaki did not shy away from the facts. “Our current mission is to help Maestro dismantle the Vongola Famiglia.”

Yuni nodded. “I do not quite understand. This Maestro, Lorenzo, Sawada Ietsuna... whatever his name is, you claim that he is out to dismantle the Famiglia that he should inherit?”

Yuni had just voiced the sticking point that had haunted the three grown hitmen. Mukuro, Fon and Hibari exchanged looks of surprise.

“This is an internal matter.” Gamma's brow furrowed as he understood the situation. “The Vongola should handle their own matters, Yuni-sama.”

“Yes, Gamma. This is the Vongola's internal matter.” Yuni swallowed. “However, I fear that Lorenzo's aim might not stop at the Vongola. You... Murasaki. You claim that you were created to fight for the Vongola during the Vongola-Millefiore War?”

Murasaki cocked her head. “Yes.”

“Then, what major targets were you responsible for?” Yuni asked. “Which Millefiore officers have you killed, and any specific actions taken?”

“#4F284B assassinated Mist Funeral Wreath Torikabuto. In the process, the Mist Mare Ring he bore was destroyed.” Murasaki delivered. “#4F284B destroyed the Melone Base between Shimon Town and Namimori. The Sun Mare Ring that Irie Shouichi bore on his person. #4F284B participated in secret in the burning of the Arancia Manor, and killed Sun Funeral Wreath Daisy.”

“I was there.” Yuni nodded. “Nearly two years ago. I... I saw the Vongola Decimo, he... he burned Byakuran to ashes.”

Murasaki's expression indicated lack of care. “Yesterday, #4F284B shelled Sismis Dvorac. I broke Storm Funeral Wreath Zakuro in the fourth through seventh vertebrae, and Rain Funeral Wreath Bluebell in the hip-bones, nasal cartiledge, and occipital lobe. In the process I have destroyed the Storm, Rain and Cloud Mare Rings.”

The tension ratcheted up. “Your mission.” Yuni spoke in the silence, “was to destroy the Mare Rings.”

“My mission was to eradicate the Millefiore. Anything that gets in the way was to be eliminated.” Murasaki's response was deadpan as her eyes narrowed. “Now that #4F284B has defected, however, that mission remains uncertain. How did you know what to ask for, Yuni-sama?”

“Intuition, I guess?” Yuni smiled, and she looked her young age for a moment. “So, assuming that the Arcobaleno were to get in the way... you will fight the Arcobaleno as well?”

“'Fight' is, perhaps an incorrect choice of words.” Murasaki pondered. “#4F284B, #3EB370 and #FF4E20 have defected. Following the probability density profile of actions available to our coordinator, it will not even come to a fight. They will _assassinate_ those in the way of their mission. Yes, that is more accurate. _Assassinate_.”

A phone call cut through the darkness.

* * *

Mukuro sat with his face in his hands, head bowed.

He had been doing so after the phone call and Tsuna's subsequent awakening. Never mind that the Mists were keeping away from the main Vongola on principle, or that their current enemy was acting nice and politely informing them that Ken and Chikusa's corpses had been found on the rail tracks of the Palermo Centrale railway station. It was as if it hadn't happened on Vongola territory, or that now the main Vongola had a chance to step in, or that Sawada _bloody_ Ietsuna masquerading as his dead twin brother had been at the Vongola's helm for two years, without anyone but a mad skylark noticing.

“I am going to kill him.”

The version of the dead twin shuddered. “Mukuro... I am so sorry-”

“I am not sorry, Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Mukuro repeated, breathing heavily through his nose and tucking his head between his knees. “I will kill your brother.”

Yuni greeted the news with a sad expression. “They are baiting you.”

Chrome nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. “That is... the most likely response. Possibly.”

“If Elmo is a computer, it's possible that she recorded the entire progress of her fight,” Spanner volunteered over an early breakfast of croissants and coffee that nobody seemed to be paying attention to. “There's no way Ietsuna, Lorenzo, whatever you call him, could have missed that, you know.”

“That is true, interjects #4F284B,” Murasaki paused over a mug of tea for Fon, which the Chinese man accepted. Next to her stood Midori and Ōtan, who were also assisting with the breakfast service, Ōtan especially in grinding coffee beans under Gamma's supervision. “The Administrator must have already known the events that transpired last night.”

“It's an excuse,” Hibari immediately said. “An excuse to hunt down the two pineapples, possibly the carnivore, and me.”

“And _me_.” Spanner pointed to himself. “And Tsuna, don't forget.”

“I...” Tsuna swallowed. “If I can get back to the past, I could prevent Ie from inventing-”

“He would have thought of that too,” Mukuro cut in. “If Fran is on his side, editing memories is the least of his skills.”

“Let's all calm down to repeat the situation,” Spanner spoke, more to himself if his lost look was any indication. “Our enemy, Verde's student and inventor of possibly the strongest Box Weapon ever, is masquerading as his dead twin, the Vongola Decimo. On his side is Mukuro's student, aforementioned Box Weapon, and a lot of copies.”

“As well as Vongola resources, since he is technically the next Vongola.” Yuni pointed out.

“That too.” Spanner nodded. “He can create portals anywhere, thanks to Elmo. That's how she got to us so fast. Now, three of our original party are dead, and two of them have made the news. Since you guys know him better than me, Murasaki, what would your Maestro do?”

The living weapon in purple blinked slowly. “Possible course of action: Maestro would trace one of us, and send the Administrator to do the job. His priority would be to safeguard the one who could disrupt the timeline: Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama. Option: Leonids, Perseids, Geminids.”

“...those are other air-strikes?” Spanner gaped in awe.

“To take him on, we need to disrupt his Vongola connections, which means exposing him,” Mukuro thought aloud, ignoring Spanner. “So... the Bovino brat actually summoned the younger Sawada Tsunayoshi from the past to prove it. By the notion of the Ten-Year Bazooka, two different versions of an individual cannot exist in the same timeline. It would be reasonable enough to persuaded Gokudera Hayato.”

“Except Elmo saw through that, and disrupted Lambo's plans,” Tsuna spoke up. “And she sent Ama after Hibari-san as well, and then Ama and Shinku, and then Midori...”

“But why?” Yuni asked, frowning. “If Sawada Ietsuna revealed himself, then automatically he is first in line to the Boss position. He would not need to hide.”

“...no, I understand.” Hibari spoke, looking directly at Tsuna. “Sawada Ietsuna would never adhere to any rules or interdictions without treading their boundaries. Such an attitude is not conducive to the Vongola upper echelons. It would have restricted him. Furthermore, he has no pride to speak of, not since Sawada Tsunayoshi the older is dead.”

“By using a masquerade, he has all the freedom of secrecy, and maintains unrestricted access to the power of the Vongola Famiglia.” Hibari took a deep breath. “And... it would be within his character to give all the praise to his brother anyway.”

Tsuna blinked at his untouched croissant. “Oh. No. Not again.”

“What?” Fon turned his head away from his tea. “Tsunayoshi-kun?”

“This is Kokuyo all over again,” Tsuna explained, his voice speeding up. “Or the Varia thing. Or... well, not the Shimon thing, since that was Enma's family and Alouette-san, and he didn't attack anyone... This is basically Ie trying to clean up what happened to me, without letting anyone know. Usually I'm around to remind him not to go too far, except this time I died, and there's nothing holding him back from the guilt and- oh _god_ , I know why Lambo got me to this time.”

Tsuna looked to all the stricken faces about him. “Lambo wants me to save Ie from himself.”

“Well, there's no way we're going to manage without getting captured,” Spanner noted. “What are you going to do, waltz up to the Vongola main base to talk to the Boss?”

* * *

Quietly, Elmo padded into the atelier of the Alpine house. The atelier's wide windows were frost-covered, fractals of Jack Frost's fingers patterning along the backdrop of a coming sunrise. She did not react to Fran's presence in the atelier, having already noted the tartan wool blanket draped over the Maestro's shoulders. “It is time to go back.”

“Enzo just fell asleep, it's not happening,” Fran simply let the kitty toy fall to the Black Lion's feet. “He can't go in today.”

“Elmo understands,” replied the weapon. “Elmo will take his place today.”

“You can do that?”

“Axioms: The natural person Sawada Tsunayoshi exists as a human being. His birth accords him with legal personhood. That legal personhood has been subsumed into the legal person of the Vongola Decimo, Tenth Boss of the Vongola Famiglia. As long as someone with the Sky Flames exist as Vongola Decimo, that person may be addressed as Sawada Tsunayoshi. Conclusion: the physical, biological entity of Sawada Tsunayoshi is secondary in concern at the moment of asking, with regards to the topic of feasibility in who acts as Sawada Tsunayoshi in the plan. Elmo therefore infers further, that Papa may rest today, and Elmo shall take on the identity of Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo.”

“When you put it like that, it's kind of scary, Elmo.”

Elmo stretched her fingers to wiggle, turning around to check her currently male body. “My apologies. Elmo did not account for each person's individual opinion in the matter.”

Fran shook his head. “No, you were right about a few things. I would however like to add something to your analysis. Sawada Ietsuna is important to me.”

“Yes. He is important to you. He is also my creator and father, so he is also important to Elmo, should Elmo possess a concept of self separate from what is already dictated by the syntax of all languages. We are in accord that Sawada Ietsuna is important.”

Fran silently contemplated the atelier, and the sleeping Black Lion. “He is strong, you know,” he confessed. “He is the strongest person I know, to set up Nocturne... we are the bad people on the side of the angels, he said. I am technically a criminal. I didn't have a choice about that, not in the Varia. He showed me that criminals don't have to exclusively be bad people. He gave me that choice, you know, to leave the Mafia, or just... be a voyeur. I would have liked it, but... you know, I thought Xanxus was Boss material, but this man made me realise that there are many types of Bosses, even sarcastic ones who watch magical girl animé. I found a Boss I wanted to serve.”

Fran's eyes narrowed, under the brim of his Kermit cap. “I will be as necessary to him as you are, Elmo. Go. Act as the Vongola Sky. I will stay with the Sky of Nocturne... the night Sky that the Vongola abandoned.”

“To be fair, _monsieur_ ,” said Elmo, “you are already necessary to him. Should you require anything, #BB7796 will be on call.”

Elmo disappeared, reappearing in the solarium of the Vongola manor. She pulled a clamshell from her cuff-link, tossing it into the air and watching it disappear into the air and, she sensed, reappearing in Asari Amaya's quarters. Elmo messed up the bedsheets and rumpled her own clothes, starting to straighten them to simulate morning dressing when the door resounded with knocks.

“Boss!” Gokudera's voice sounded. “Chikusa and Ken! They're- they're dead!”

The door opened. “Get me a phone to call Chrome,” said the Vongola Decimo.

Gokudera Hayato had awoken in a foul mood. His father had called nattering about the succession in the absence of the _legal_ heiress, his older sister. The baseball idiot was in the main headquarters, and two of Mukuro's underlings were dead in Sicily. He had barely even had coffee, and now his Boss was already starting to offer condolences.

“You're safe? How's Mukuro? I see. Ken and Chikusa's bodies were found at the Centrale. The two of you are in Sicily? Where? Is Fon-san with you? No... Anyone else? I see. I'll send a car. I'm sorry, but Ken and Chikusa are dead. I will not lose anyone else if I could. Please.”

The phone, a wire-less house phone, was unceremoniously tossed back into its receiver once farewells were said. “Hayato, have you eaten? How is Takeshi and Sasagawa-sempai?”

“Ah, they conked out from jet lag, the rude idiots,” Gokudera replied. “They're awake... more or less... they're in the kitchen with Lambo for breakfast. As for myself, I was on my way to the kitchens, but the situation took precedence.”

“I see.” His Boss sucked a long, audible breath. The sound of a nervous Boss might make the Boss seem weak, but Gokudera had seen worse expressions after the Arancia Manor battle, where Sawada Ietsuna had died. This was just a new coping mechanism, according to whatever psychology sources he had read about identical twins. “...get some food yourself.”

“Will you be wanting breakfast, Tenth?”

His head shook. “I will take Amaya and the Fiat to... the Giglio Nero house. Yuni left in the middle of the night. Lucky for her.”

“Signorina Yuni just called, she'll drop by later. You're actually going to Palermo Centrale, right, Tenth?” Gokudera pressed, looking into empty amber eyes. “We need a good answer.”

“I will investigate what happened to Ken and Chikusa,” lied the one behind the mask. “When I find them, it will be when Mukuro finds them.”

Gokudera's eyes hardened. “They were his oldest friends, so you'll leave justice to the Mist Guardian? But, justice is to be carried out by the Famiglia... but Mukuro is also part of the Family, no matter what he says. Why must it be you?”

“Hayato.” His Boss looked at him slowly. “I simply want to move. Is that good enough?”

“...yes, Boss. And I will move with you.”

“You should get some food, Hayato.”

“So, will you join us for breakfast, Tenth? Nobody would want you to starve.”

A soft huff sounded. Wordlessly, the Boss walked towards the kitchens. Heaving a sigh of relief, Gokudera just smiled wearily at his soft-hearted Boss' concern, following a few steps behind for space and to better cover the other man's back.

“Because his own family is gone, our Boss is sensitive to losing Family members.” Gokudera murmured to himself. “It is touching, but concerning, because at the Commission you will dismantle the Family. Afterwards, Xanxus will probably revive the Vongola cause. Your life will be targeted once more, and the shield of the Vongola will no longer exist for you. I worry for you, Boss.”

Surprisingly, the object of Gokudera's musing would turn up in the very large kitchen as the Vongola Decimo was grinding beans by hand. The kitchen was modern compared to the rest of the Iron Fort, with chrome fittings, multicoloured tiled floor and walls, and vents and drains running between huge walk-in freezers, sinks, cupboards and counters. It also made it easy to wash down evidence. The two Bosses seemed the only elements to be vaguely out of place. One, serene as the backdrop of colour-streaked morning light filtered through the eruption of Mt Etna outside he was superimposed against. The other hidden in the shadows indoors, aided by the darkened scars across his face and the patterns of the feathers he wore as accessories by his collar.

“ _Buongiorno_ , Xanxus.” The greeting was spoken off-hand and politely, despite the spines of all other Vongola Guardians present stiffening once they sighted the Varia Boss. “Would you like a cup?”

“...Irish.” came the simple reply.

“There's Bailey-flavoured  _granita_ in the fridge.”

“So very Italian. _Granita_ for breakfast.” Xanxus smirked, dominating the kitchen doorway. “Going native?”

“Not by your definition. After all, I only have one thirty-second of Italian ancestry.”A pause, along with the continued grinding. “Assuming that we are discussing of Italy as the state formed in 1861, rather than Sicily, the possession of multiple kingdoms of Europe.”

“And you know your history too.”

Yamamoto Takeshi blinked at the cereal flakes in his bowl before looking from Gokudera, to Xanxus, to Tsuna, and then to Gokudera again. “Is Xanxus sick?” the Rain tentatively started.

“I extremely want to know too,” Sasagawa Ryohei added once he finished his bacon. “Xanxus usually talks... extremely more. With bad words.”

“I sent you guys memos!” Gokudera hissed. “The first death anniversary went... _bad_. You weren't around when it came to blows. Which is why I got the two of you to come back this year.”

“ _Xanxus_ attacked Tsuna?!” Yamamoto's mouth formed an O.

“Erm... the Tenth attacked Xanxus.” Gokudera admitted. “Xanxus burnt the flowers and stepped on the headstone... during the grave visit. In front of the Boss.”

“That is extremely bad, and Xanxus totally deserves that... but they _fought_?!” Ryohei hissed back.

Gokudera nodded. “Boss won.”

Said subject of discussion was smiling while preparing the rough powder into a paper-lined filter cup. “How's the knee?”

A touch of hot water followed, releasing the aroma into the midst of great tension between the two Skies. Xanxus bared his teeth. “You harmonised my knee into your fucking twin's headstone. Make a fucking guess.”

“It fell victim to the unfortunate result of an ill-advised headstone mounting.” The Vongola Decimo smiled, but the gesture had no warmth, and simply increased the leonine resemblance of the current Boss to quite a few other Vongola Bosses. “It's been nearly a year since that happened. Lussuria fixed you, I guess? I wonder where he had to... _cut_.”

“The fairy,” Xanxus bit back, clearly wishing to move to violence but under heroic restraint for some reason, “has done it, since I'm still right here in the Vongola HQ, aren't I?”

“Despite the best efforts to keep you watching over the Family's fallen,” was the flippant remark. “I would hate to see good tiles... _become_ you, if you cannot hold back.”

“T- That's Sawada?!” Ryohei turned back to the Storm. “This is not _bad_. This is... this is _Byakuran_.”

“Gokudera. You said it was bad, and you just tossed call after summon after emergency for us to come for the anniversary. You _never_ mentioned that Tsuna actually fought with Xanxus over Ietsuna's headstone last year.” Yamamoto chipped in, smile dropping.

While the peanut gallery was occupied with its own discussions, Tsuna added more hot water to the drip cup, placing it above a coffee cup to drip. “If you do not want normal coffee, you must want something else. If it is not here, perhaps I could assist you.”

“...if the house isn't safe, Varia's open to the miss.” Xanxus shrugged. “For a fee, 'course.”

The murmuring stopped. Only the drip-drip of coffee continued. The Vongola Decimo deigned to check his cup at last, once it had flowed over the rim to stain the white ceramic underneath the cone.

“...from her father to you, thank you.”

“She'll make a great guardian, if your twin was anything to go by.” Xanxus' lip curled. “She _is_ his kid. That's the reason why you adopted her.”

A small smile, and more contemplation of the coffee cup. “Does it matter, Xanxus? She has no expectation to inherit.”

Xanxus' jaw twitched. The tension had dissipated, as if there was now only the conversation to consider. “She's talented. How is it that your side missed out on the talent, but got the throne anyway?”

The cup was lifted, the coffee stirred with milk and brown sugar with a philosophical consideration from its maker. “Flames.”

Xanxus firmly nodded. His leg wobbled slightly as he shifted his weight. “I don't care. One day, I'm still gonna take Vongola.”

“The Commission meeting to announce Vongola's dissolution is in two days. Not one.”

Xanxus got a blank expression. “I am not going to labour for your leftovers, trash! I'll make my own Famiglia.”

“For what it's worth now, I always thought that you would be the type.” Amber eyes scanned Xanxus. “You are so much like Ie in that sense.”

Xanxus flounced away. The Boss sat down, munching on toast.

“Sawada.” Ryohei frowned. “Amaya... the Asari girl is... his kid? That would be...”

“Impossible, of course. Xanxus simply drew his own conclusions about Amaya's birthright... and Ie's activities. Amaya is simply my ward, Sasagawa-sempai. She does not have the Vongola blood, or any expectations to inherit.”

“That might brush Xanxus... the wrong way,” Yamamoto commented. “I mean... he was adopted, right? And the Varia mess in our middle school... was because he couldn't inherit.”

“Amaya knows. She accepts her adoption. As long as she is safe and can defend herself, it will be fine.” The Boss paused, smiling. “Her art is beautiful. She has great talent, and that talent should be cultivated.”

“Art... I see, Ietsuna-sama.” Gokudera whispered.

“I saw her just now,” Yamamoto nodded in approval. “Lambo followed her out of the kitchen, playing... what's that game? Are they dating?”

“Lambo?! No.” Their Boss set down his cup, eyes alert. “Hayato, we need to stop that dandy cow!”

“Tenth, Lambo has something with I-Pin, remember?”

“He cheats.”

Ryohei just started laughing at the other man's expression. “I see. So the cold act, the Boss aura, the extremes, the adopted ward... that's your way of grieving, Sawada.”

Everyone was smiling as they left the kitchen about their separate ways.

The smile slid off of the Boss' face when he saw who was in his office. He walked around them, the click of the lock behind him audible in the oak-panelled room as one of his visitors spoke.

“I cannot believe,” said the Vongola Decimo, “that you just waltzed up to the Vongola main base and said, quote, 'we'd like to speak with the brother-complex Boss, thanks so much', unquote.”

Spanner swallowed, despite the green shells in his ear. Tsuna looked from Spanner, to the Cloud and Mists of the Vongola, to the orange shell pinned on the lapel of his too-big shirt.

“Well, it wasn't my idea.” Tsuna spoke.

The Tenth Boss of the Vongola smiled to the others, before the smile dropped. “Mukuro, Chrome. I am so sorry about Chikusa and Ken. I thought Fon-san was with all of you.”

“The Arcobaleno is in France,” Mukuro blandly replied.

“He wanted to visit Alouette-san's home-town,” Chrome quickly clarified.

“Like you care,” Hibari snarled.

“Oradour-sur-Glane has been rebuilt, technically, so it's her former home-town.” The Boss turned a small smile on their quietest member so far. “I'm speechless. You managed to find someone who looks like me so much, it could only be me. Right now, at any rate.”

Tsuna swallowed. The cadence, the carriage of the man in front of him, the young man familiar with power and war, seemed so foreign. It was so hard to believe that this man so much like Ietsuna could pass for _himself_ in the future.

“I am sorry,” spoke the Vongola Decimo, steepling his fingers. “You must have known the truth by now. Our brother died for us.”

Tsuna frowned. The motion was very... very much like Ie. He never did that. Not unless he wanted to intimidate people, or fake- fake confidence. Of course. This was the secret behind the masquerade; the mask of the Vongola Decimo.

“I have always regarded you to be the best and most talented person I know, Ie.” Tsuna spoke in realisation. “Maybe that is why, when I act as Boss, I followed you. The habit must have followed me from our past into the future, and you used that to act as the Vongola Decimo. Somehow, I managed to become everyone's Boss. But, the time that I spent as everyone's friend must have been forgotten... except by Hibari-san, whom you set up.”

A light sparked in amber eyes. “I'm sorry,” said the Vongola Decimo, who was smiling nervously. “I think we've made a mistake. I am Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“It's alright,” Tsuna told the other. “It's alright, Ie. I know everything, Fran showed me. You've been trying to protect everyone, haven't you? None of my friends would follow Sawada Ietsuna. It drove you to do this. You helped me to protect them anyway. Lambo brought me here, not to fight you, not to fight the Vongola. He brought me here to prevent you from making the mistake of living on as _me_.”

Complete silence reigned.

“Everyone should know that _you_ are the one who should be Boss,” Tsuna swallowed. “I can't bear to see you like this. Please, don't live to accomplish so much as me, just because you think I want that.”

The older brown-haired man looked back at Tsuna. His slender artist's fingers stretched out, tracing the trembling Adam's apple on Tsuna's throat. A choked sob issued. “Ie...?”

“It's so very touching, Uncle.” His smile widened as his hair seemed to grow long and over the shoulders of his throat. “Elmo must confess her incomprehension of your petty foibles.”

Tsuna's eyes widened in shock, before he was pushed through the black portal that appeared behind him. He disappeared from the office under everyone's supervision, directly before the gas canisters imploded. Coughing echoed in the smoky interior of the office, which faded to reveal Elmo, standing alone amidst the sleeping bodies.

“Victory condition achieved...” Elmo paused, frowning. “No, Elmo must stop Fon-sama and the rogue units as well....”

She checked the wrists of all four of them, even Chrome's ears. Her brow furrowed as she found only a green shell hanging around Spanner's ear. The brow deepened as orange Flames sparked on her temples, fanning out much like deer horns.

“#FF4E20 has changed the coordinates, Elmo realises. Uncle is not imprisoned.” Elmo's amber eyes fell upon the four hitmen, who were currently struggling against the paralysing gas. She made her choice, and touched Spanner.

The mechanic blinked. He saw himself in a bedroom, and then he saw Yuni's hand reaching for him, flames of indigo burning on every tip of her finger as she dug them across his eyes and her eyes shone.

“Blue Screen module activated. Accessing subject's memories. Target located in Paris, France. Narrowing down.”

In the office, Elmo's expression turned into fury, the mask of the Vongola Decimo already morphing into her usual form. “The rest of you...”

“You will not get him,” Hibari replied, wobbling as he staggered to his feet, tonfas already out.

“Why?!” Elmo asked. “Why are you disrupting Papa's plans, Hibari Kyoya?! Is it not the wish of Sawada Tsunayoshi, that the Vongola be destroyed, that you will all have your lives back?! Are your aims not in agreement with ours?! Are our enemies not the same, far too ephemeral to fight, too numerous to take on?! Why do you make an enemy of Papa, of Nocturne, of Elmo?! We are fighting for the Vongola! Do you hate Elmo's creator so much?!”

“My aims... were always to fight the strongest... that was what I thought,” Hibari struggled under the effects of the gas. “But Sawada Tsunayoshi would cry if he knew what Sawada Ietsuna had done. What kind of horror he had unleashed.”

His grey eyes flashed. “In another world, and another time, yes, perhaps I would help you. The problem I have is not Sawada Ietsuna. It is that I fight for the Vongola, but Sawada Ietsuna has a different conception of the Vongola. He will kill us all.”

Hibari charged into battle, tonfas cracking against Elmo's skull. The skin faded, Mist Flame curling around the purple Flames that burst from it as Elmo reached forward-

-and touched him.

Hibari disappeared.

“No.” Elmo hissed to the silent space, drawing a gun out of this air in a streak of black Flame. “It is not Papa who will kill you all. He wanted Elmo to spare you all, if possible. Elmo exists only because of Papa, for Papa. Elmo exists because he wanted to help your Vongola. Your ungrateful, traitorous, criminal Famiglia.”

With inhumane finesse, Elmo levelled the sight on Mukuro's skull. The hammer thumbed back, the trigger twitched-

“ _Administrator. Subject Sawada Tsunayoshi located, however Spanner has escaped.”_

The gun was placed down. “#264348, Come and erase their memories. Forget about Hibari-sama, I have sent him across the Pacific Ocean. Make sure that they don't remember. Even if they are his Family... if they will disrupt the plan, Elmo will slaughter everyone in the way of his dream.”

* * *

“The Administrator has thwarted them once more. She has masqueraded as Maestro.” Murasaki blinked as she stood outside the Gare Saint-Lazare.

“I guess it's easier to act as the twins,” Fon commented lightly, though the way he broke the plastic cup he was holding belied his act. “What has been done?”

“Ōtan has managed to hack the Administrator to waylay Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama, however... he seems to have gone to Le Bourget according to Ōtan's stolen records from the Administrator.” Confusion entered her tone, but she gamely continued. “It is a commune in the north-eastern suburbs of Paris. It is located ten point 6 kilometres from the Paris centre. The commune features Le Bourget Airport, which in turn hosts the  _Musée de l'Air et de l'Espace_. The  _Bureau d'Enquêtes et d'Analyses pour la Sécurité de l'Aviation civile_  is also head-quartered on the airport grounds and in Le Bourget  proper. Le Bourget is currently holding the 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference.”

“Given what happened in November, no surprise,” Fon assessed. “But why would Ietsuna and company be so interested in Le Bourget? For the conference?”

Murasaki's eyes slid to the side. “Persons of interest: eight members of the former Mafia Famiglia called the Simon, are currently there. Maestro has earmarked these individuals for protection during the Millefiore-Vongola war, hence their presence in the network database, along with a contingent of Corbicula _soldati_ units to watch them. #A86F4C, #8C6450, and #917347.”

“I'll take your word for it. As for the watchers... are they surveillance, or guards?” Fon asked. “Let's go to Le Bourget. We'll find out then.”

Murasaki glanced around the busy train station and its commuters who ignored the Chinese man in blatantly unfashionable clothing. “Please choose your method of conveyance.”

“Train. We need to keep the use of your portal bullets to a minimum.”

“Origine-Destination ticket, one party.” Murasaki declared.

“Two parties. One for you,” Fon clarified.

“Fon-sama, my true body is currently hanging off your plait.”

Fon fingered the purple clamshell tied to the end of his hair. “Yes, but I prefer to have a conversation. And do you think a Mobilis thicket is better?”

Murasaki opened her mouth, and then her head turned. “Whichever you like. Ama and Shinku are after us.”

“Hong Kong discount it is!” Fon simply grabbed her hand and the two started running into the station, easily clearing the turnstiles and running across the platform of the Gare Saint-Lazare, away from two girls dressed in red and blue respectively.

“#4F284B believes that the action of hopping the turnstiles is more accurately a New York-”

The train was already pulling out, but it was no problem for an Arcobaleno, especially their strongest fighter, to leap atop it. Murasaki easily followed him, as did the two sisters behind them, but Fon's hand swept out with a wave of Storm Flame. The red light caught both of them, pushing both living weapons off of the train roof.

“ _Attention à la marche en descendant du train..._ ”1 rang across the train platform from the other end as Fon sat down on the roof and held onto the clamshell on his plait.

“...” Murasaki contemplated. “There is minimal anonymity now.”

“ _Now_ ,” Fon corrected, unbuttoning the collar of his  _changshan_  to reveal a Western shirt underneath. “You didn't think I wore this around just to be eccentric, did I?”

“#4F284B does not think in the sense that humans use to ascribe to the act of pondering,” the unit simply replied. “In that case, #4F284B will now proceed to contact #FF4E20.”

* * *

The concrete under Tsuna's back bit into him, but Tsuna did not feel the pain exactly. The pain came from deep within himself, and the fact that the horror story of the Vongola would do anything to divert him from confronting Ie that she would masquerade as him.

“Boss.”

Ōtan was out, her body warm against his as she used her lap to pillow his head. His eyes opened, meeting identical amber eyes. “Pupil dilation alright,” Ōtan assessed. “Heartbeat and breathing normal. No irregular blood flow detected.”

“I'm fine, Ōtan.” Tsuna gingerly sat up. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“It is my job.” Ōtan frowned back at him. “Norepinephrine levels high.”

“Stop scanning me,” Tsuna automatically replied. “Wait, you can see my blood levels?”

“You are bleeding on my physical body.”

Tsuna quickly got up. He'd had a scrape on his ankle somehow that was indeed bleeding on the curve of an orange clamshell. He quickly picked it up, watching the shell hold his blood.

“Sorry,” He prepared to pour it out.

“Please do not leave your DNA.” Ōtan took the shell from him. Flames leapt into being, burning the blood and staining the shell a reddish hue. “The Administrator will trace us. Band-aid?”

“Thanks.” Tsuna clumsily applied the sticker over his wound, pulling his pants straight over his ankle. “Where... are we?”

“Le Bourget, in the arrondissent of Bobigny, the department of Seine-Saint-Denis, in the region of Île-de-France, France.”

Tsuna stared at her. “We're in _France_?”

“The Administrator intended to send you out to a spot in the Ionian Sea, around the Calypso Deep,” Ōtan replied. “#FF4E20 deduced that she was planning to drown you, and took the liberty of hacking her. #FF4E20 was unable to stop her, but could change the portal's destination coordinates to the last set utilised.”

“I thought she needed me alive?” Tsuna asked.

Ōtan thought about it. “It is possible that she was simply transferring you to an isolated area. Though #FF4E20 is unable to divine the presence of an island after cross-reference to #FF4E20's Earthfinder module, it is possible that the location is the current coordinates of the mother unit Vongola dei Cieli.”

“Whatever the case, you stopped her,” Tsuna said. “I know you explained that you can't hack her back too much, but thanks anyway.”

“It is my purpose for existence.”

The sad thing, thought Tsuna, was that it was probably all true. Ōtan did not have the capability to even lie to him, unlike her scary sister-Administrator, and she was more or less following his every order. There were men who might find that pleasing, but it just made Tsuna sick in the stomach to know that his twin had so much genius, and he made such horrors like Elmo and Ōtan.

“You know, you were more... emotional, back then.” Tsuna waved his hands. “At least, you... emoted more? Like around Gamma-san?”

“We of the Rete Vongole have mutation code written into the strings of our action programming,” Ōtan explained. “We calculate based on observational data the actions that would draw out the necessary action from our target to gain more information, and rewrite our code according to Simon's algorithm-”

“That is creepy, stop,” Tsuna cut in before she could beat his brain with more computing concepts. “But that does not explain Gamma-san- wait,” he cut off. “That means... you were acting in a way that would make him... like you. Right?”

“In layman's terms, yes. Gamma-sama is eminently likeable.”

“That's nasty.” Tsuna told her sincerely. “Please don't do that.”

“It is in my programming. However, since an order is interpreted, I will revise my programming to remove the strings.”

“Mmm...” Tsuna curled in on himself, still on the ground. “Has...is this all her doing?”

“That is incorrect, Boss.” Ōtan promptly replied. “As powerful as the Administrator is, all Box Weapons are by definition created to follow an order. The agency possessed by computers does not exist in a form as humans comprehend them; there is a purpose behind our actions, no matter how convoluted the eventual goal.”

“I see. Too bad you can't tell me about Ie.”

“Ōtan regrets that she cannot fulfil that request. Ōtan has no memory of the Maestro, though Ōtan must have had contact with the Maestro in order to use her abilities during weapon tuning.”

“Yes... you're a weapon.” Tsuna glumly curled in on himself, willing the blood flow to stop. “You were made for war.”

“According to my database, #FF4E20 was created at the end of the Millefiore-Vongola War, and thus did not received war upgrades. In that sense, #FF4E20 was made for peace.” Ōtan blinked at her hands. “Sometimes, #FF4E20 regrets not being born earlier, despite the inevitability of her creation. #FF4E20 regretted not fulfilling the purpose to serve, taking up RAM on the Vongola dei Cieli servers without resolution to the limbo I found myself in.”

“And now?”

“Now #FF4E20 is helping you, Boss. #FF4E20 has a purpose now. That is all the difference, because now, #FF4E20 will take the next step to get you where you want to be.”

“I see.” Tsuna nodded. “So... where do I want to be?”

“You want to be safe.” Ōtan frowned. “To get you back to the past, the simplest way would be to await the Administrator's arrival. Ōtan can send a message if you like.”

“Not like that.” Tsuna shook his head. “I must stop Ie, even if it means getting past Elmo. To do that, I need... I need Reborn. Basically, I need help.”

“Then we must get to Café La Dent-De-Lion.” Ōtan tilted her head. “Onee-sama has sent coordinates. She is on her way with Fon-sama, to the meeting of the Arcobaleno here at Le Bourget. Follow me, please.”

* * *

_**1 FR: Please mind the gap while exiting the train.** _


	44. 43: Rococo

 

Escaping the Giglio Nero Boss – who was a sleeper agent, joy – was made less complicated by the fact that Midori was with him. One blast of Lightning Flame managed to knock Yuni, or whatever she was, away from him, and that was when he ran out of the room – a bedroom, that led out to a tiled hallway, that was guarded by men in black suits, unassuming and armed.

“Oops,” said the blond engineer.

He started running as the guns appeared, sliding down the banisters of one open stairwell and diving for another part of the house he was in. He did not hold out too much hope; the headquarters of the Vongola Famiglia were probably capable of taking out small fry like him. He was a genius mechanic, true, but the hitmen around him were probably more likely to riddle him with bullet fragments first.

A green screen shimmered before his eyes from the clamshells hanging on his earlobes. Lines formed on the surface, turning into a heads-up display that traced a route in red as he ran.

“You are the handiest, loveliest Box Weapon right now, Midori,” Spanner told her as he followed the thick red line, which led to a relatively empty wing and open windows with a garden view. A first-floor window; a way out-

DUCK flashed across the HUD and he followed, saving his skull from the Maximum Cannon punch that took out the brickwork on Spanner's left. Spanner rolled, away from the looming white-haired Sun Guardian of the Vongola.

“I will extremely detain this intruder!”

Green flame shimmered about him. Midori dropped out of thin air – or, more accurately speaking from Spanner's experience, she made a body for herself from the Mist and Lightning Flames stored within the clamshell that was her real body. “Enemy identified. Computing approach. Halloween Fireballs selected.”

The light fixtures blinked before they were torn out, hovering in the air as Midori touched them, turning green as the Lightning Flame charged and the entire metal candelabra shot forward like some strange projectile, meeting the Sun Guardian's next punch. In the wake of the explosion and shrapnel from the metal and crystal shards, Midori led Spanner away, the pair of them running towards another end.

Midori pulled Spanner forward as an oodachi nearly severed his head, and then she pulled him into a fireman's carry as they leapt off a ledge a carpeted floor, and narrowly missed getting bombed by explosions of Storm Flame. “Priority: escape and hide.”

“Baseball idiot, they're at the entrance!” A shout went up. “Stop them!”

“OK! _Shigure Soen Ryuu._..!”

Midori tossed out her hand, conjuring a giant static charge that stood against the wave of Rain Flame. Spanner led her towards the giant double doors, which led out to a wide garden, nice porches, and a long-ass driveway with no cover at all.

Their pursuers had also noticed this, as a familiar boxer yelled that he was coming from above. “Run in zigzag!” Spanner hissed as he dragged the living weapon with him. “We'll be sniped!”

“My speciality happens to rest on defences.” Midori replied grimly as her entire form started to shimmer and crackle, morphing into a bulky-looking goat. “Get on.”

Spanner complied, his hands resting on her horns by instinct before she took off, fleet on foot. Green light crackled at her newly formed hooves, clipping over the asphalt before somehow, they were in the air and clearing the leap over the great gates to the other side.

“He's got a Box Weapon! A Lightning Goat!” Gokudera yelled. “Turf-top, check for more intruders. Baseball idiot, the Tenth's protection is with you. Brat, you're with me! We're going to hunt that guy down!”

Yawning, Lambo rubbed his eyes. “Got it, Gokudera-shi.”

* * *

Meanwhile, the Mafia world's strongest of the current generation met in a café in Paris.

The World's Strongest Seven were technically babies. This was a result of their shared curse, and their current characteristic. Therefore, the fact that three of their members were adult-sized, instead of five babies and one adult being at the table, was drawing a lot of attention between them.

“You could have told us you had a breakthrough, dammit!” Colonello had yelled. He had been the loudest so far, since Verde and Skull had appeared with adult-sized bodies and big grins.

“I'm still testing it! It might kill me!” Skull still looked far too elated, his helmet set by his right hand at the joined coffee tables.

“Still in testing stage,” Verde affirmed, though the grin he held earned him a green-coloured gun pointed at him.

The gun's wielder, one baby-sized Reborn, glowered at the adult-sized pair with beady eyes. “Why didn't you share this good news earlier, huh?!”

“I would love to, but that would actually mean talking to you,” Verde bit back. As the gun barrel moved towards Skull, he added, “I told Fon, who very graciously volunteered himself as an experiment sample.”

“Fon is adult-sized before me, dammit?” Colonello protested loudly. “He doesn't even need to be adult-sized! Why not me, dammit? Hell, why not Lal, dammit?! Or Mammon?”

“Because it's still an experiment,” Verde bit back. “Once it's safe, that's where the money rolls in.”

“A drug trial like this, though?” Lal Mirch crossed her arms. “A drug trial like this would cost upwards of a million dollars... no, even more than that.”

“Well, Mammon isn't going to contribute, right?”

“You know me too well, Verde,” Mammon commented, sipping her tap water. It had been complimentary, and also earned weird looks, if there was anyone looking towards the table where six of the Arcobaleno were.

“What do you think Fon's summons are about, dammit?” Colonello slammed his hand onto the table, missing to slap Reborn in the face due to his emotion-induced lack of proprioception.

Coolly, Reborn punched the other Arcobaleno. “The important question should be, why did we choose Paris?”

“Well, it's convenient,” Verde lightly commented as he tapped his index and third finger on the coffee table. “We're all in Europe, aren't we?”

“I came with the Simon,” Skull added, sending a pre-prepared message to a burner phone connected to the Rete Vongole.

“Enma must be a pain,” Reborn remarked. “My students are terrible, but who gets all that training and a family, only to drop out?”

“I think Enma had different priorities,” Skull commented as his phone vibrated with a message.

 

_#2ca9e1,_ _#a22041_ _are good colours for a blind date._ _  
_ _–_ _\_ _405_

Verde glanced at his own phone, lying on the surface of the table. He blinked, acknowledging in silence the message that had been sent to all allied Rete Vongole units; protect their cover at all costs.

Until he chose a side.

Between saving his own skin, he mused, and his students... well, the choice seems obvious.

* * *

“Why did they choose Paris?” Fon wondered aloud as Murasaki and him walked the rue Étienne Dolet. “I mean, I can deduce why Ietsuna would want to keep tabs here. But why the rest of the Arcobaleno? The Charlie Hebdo business makes everyone jumpy, they should have chosen elsewhere.”

“Should that be true, a thousand other world capitals would be rendered unusable by crime,” Murasaki placidly replied. “It makes no difference to the Maestro.”

“I suppose when you can teleport across the world, it really does make no difference as to which country you operate in,” Fon conceded. “That Beretta... does it have a special modification to allow teleportation?”

“It has a coordinating chip for inputting coordinates wirelessly via my transmitter.” Sensibly, she did not pull it out in the middle of Paris. “The bullets are Dying Will Bullets modified for slow-action release, using the Administrator's Night Flames. However, the primer is the Flame of the Rete Vongole unit the cartridge is assigned to; in this case, the Cloud Flame #4F284B.”

“But...” Fon pondered. “It's... a lot more low-key than the teleportation theories I know of.”

Murasaki remained silent for a moment. Being acquainted with his own family, Fon turned around to see Murasaki contemplate the passing cars on the road. “This is the part where you're supposed to continue the conversation,” he prompted. “The actual mechanics of the Beretta, if you please?”

“The actual technology lies in the cartridge.” Murasaki confessed. “According to #4F284B cross-reference of current data, the only Flame-utilising teleportation theory should be the Millefiore Flame Ring system. Sun Flames as catalysts to Storm destabilisation and Cloud propagation, Mist construction of safety zone, Lightning reinforcement and Rain Flames for stabilising the coordinate path. Six different Flames needed, harmonised with Sky Flames under a grand total of five million Fiamma Volts per usage. Inefficient.”

Fon's eyebrows continued climbing as he walked beside her. “His work is- I can see why Spanner describes you and your sisters as art,” he started. “You are a magnificent assistant and resource. Elmo should not be superior to any of you.”

“I live to serve, Fon-sama.” Murasaki's eyes did not miss the flinch the half-Chinese man had. “To answer your question, the Administrator directly serves Maestro. Therefore, her Flames lie outside the conventional ROYGBIV Flame Attribute system, having received them directly from our creator.”

“ROYGBIV- oh, the weathers,” Fon caught on. “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. That- that girl's- no, that monster's Flames is none of those colours or attributes? How does that even work?”

“To clarify, it is the complete absence of those seven attributes.” Murasaki replied. “What is left is a heavy, inky darkness, holding an energy output higher than any known Flame of the Sky because everything, even light, cannot escape its grasp. Because of the current paucity of literature upon the characteristic of the Flame, the Maestro has chosen a word for its characteristic: _Inevitibilità_ _._ ”

“Inevitability... all Flames inevitably fall to it,” Fon contemplated his translation of the word. “So, her Flame's power is to teleport things?”

“Amongst others.” Murasaki paused. “Fon-sama. I am unable to defy the programming of the censor. You are different from me. Therefore, would you agree that the condition of this mission's success relies on getting you to the meeting place?”

“Er, yes?” Fon echoed in confusion.

Murasaki pushed him out of the way. Having been unprepared either for the sudden attack or for Murasaki's deceptive strength, Fon managed to clear the blast radius of the fiery white explosion. The living weapon took the full blow of the magnesium tracer round, but still manage to throw up five pearls of varying colours with the arm that was not burning.

“#4F284B, sortie.”

The pearls cracked; despite the  screams and running civilians,  Fon still managed to see the  pearls burn  cyan, indigo, green and  yellow,  before they were  covered by  purple  fire that multiplied each Flame, until there w as a giant flock  of birds  flapping their wings.

T he bullets kept coming,  each one striking true  into the wing, breast or head of each passerine bird.  Murasaki fought through, dragging Fon's hand behind her as s he deposited him before the  terrace of La Dent-de-Lion.

There was a cheery yellow dandelion in the signboard with a cartoon lion in the O. It had been shot through .

A hand covered in blue headed for him; Fon made to deflect the blow, but it simply rested against his chest, burning a light cyan. He blinked, looking up into another face identical to Murasaki's, calm and placid. Ama continued to be calm and placid as her fingers drew blood, digging through Fon's shirt. The tight-woven linen clung, offering little resistance to the actual blow but preventing her from tearing through his sternum in an effort to get at his heart.

Ama frowned, almost in debate with herself. It was enough for Fon to use his own Flames, sending the Storm Flames on a blow down her chest. Fon then stared as the blown-apart Mist-Lightning mixture of Flame started to repair itself.

“That is _unfair_.”

Ama head-butted him. “You cannot harm me.”

Arms sprouted around Ama, restraining her. Purple sparks trailed from each sprouting limb, tearing apart their host body as they turned on Ama. Without a pause, Ama melted, turning into a snake that reared around to bite Murasaki. The living weapon dressed in purple cursed, fighting her sister weapon in reptilian form, thrashing as the long, cyan-tinged coils thrashed and tightened, pulling Fon in.

“No, you don't!” Murasaki snarled as her arms continually multiplied within the loops of the anaconda. Fuelled by the Propagation factor of her Flame attribute, they grew and winked out of existence in the same second, allowing Murasaki the room to wiggle and stab down onto Ama's dislocated jaw and wrench apart the Flame construct.

Indigo and green burned from the ends where ichor and flesh should have hung, but the oldest of the Big Seven continued to bodily dismember the snake. Birds swooped down, a multicoloured storm of flechettes starting to eat into the Flame-constructed flesh. A blue clam thudded to the ground.

Murasaki let go of the dissolving constructs, diving for it. A shot rang out, slinging the clam away from her, skittering across the Parisian street and into a roadside drain. Still holding the smoking gun, Reborn regarded the scene.

“Ciaossu, Fon. You're an adult too?”

“Mission accomplished.” Murasaki stated. “If you will not mind, though, there is a meteor shower headed towards our location.”

* * *

A street away from La Dent-de-Lion, Tsuna shook the head that someone had just hit and caused his brains to rattle in his skull. It did not help that Ōtan had used him as a lever to kick out at their assailant, also kicking stray bits of flying newspaper up and down the alley.

“You're lousy, #FF4E20,” sneered the Elmo-clone in the red dress. Red flames sparked from her hands and along her arms.

It looked cool. Also deadly, decided Tsuna, but it was a very _obvious_ kind of deadly. At least it was not Elmo's double-crossing sabotage.

“I don't like to fight.” Tsuna began. “What's your name? Why are you here?”

The human-shaped weapon silently considered him. “#A22041, Shinku, reporting to Vongola X Sawada Tsunayoshi, year 2005. Our standing orders were to escort you to the Administrator. You will then be returned to your time, without the memories of the future by which the past may be influenced. That is all that #A22041 has been allowed to say.”

“Because Lambo summoned me here, to disrupt Ie's plan,” Tsuna nodded. “Yes, Hibari-san told me. Because Ie is... is not well. He's going about this the wrong way. You have to let me stop him, place him as the Eleventh.”

“Yet under those postulated conditions, if you stop him, then the Vongola Famiglia will lose what glue holds it together,” Shinku elaborated. “You will leave him as a Mafia Boss; a fate that your future self had not wanted for him. Your friends will leave him; they have only ever stayed for you. Even we of the Rete Vongole cannot supply the legitimacy and company that he will require.”

Tsuna faltered. It was a horrible scenario, one that he could see happening.

“How has the Maestro...” Shinku frowned, “'gone about the wrong way', as you say? Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama, Maestro has done what you failed to do; he has protected your friends. Throughout the war and through the post-war unrest, he has sacrificed everything for you and your friends, despite being repaid with paranoia and suspicion on their end. Even if he has lied, he has carried out the intention that the lie was intended for. There has been minimal collateral damage. Will you continue to thwart him, when he needs you on his side now?”

Ōtan held up her hands, arranged in preparation to fight. “Boss-”

Ōtan's face smashed into the stone-edged side of a building, Shinku's snarl echoing down the alley. “Do not interfere.”

“Ōtan!” Tsuna screeched in horror as the orange-dressed girl collapsed with part of the brick and stone. “How can you do such a thing?!”

“Our youngest sister has been remiss in her duties, notes #A22041,” Shinku continued, as if violence had not just immediately ensued in the middle of their conversation. “Now, Tsunayoshi-sama. Will you return? We still have a plan to execute. If you don't, the Administrator has allowed me to call down a firestorm to bring you back.”

Falling to bended knee, Tsuna winced in pain as he helped up Ōtan. “Ōtan... are you alright?”

“Such a blow will do nothing to my circuits, #A22041,” Ōtan got back to her feet, sweeping her arms free of debris. “If you are here, then #2CA9E1 must also be here. A loose cannon like #A22041 would never be allowed out without supervision.”

“I'll burn your speakers out, #FF4E20!” Red flame sparked with her snapping fingers, starting a fiery conflagration that nearly took off Ōtan's head and singed Tsuna's hair. “Oops.”

It felt ridiculous, watching a computer program squirm. “I'm fairly sure robots aren't meant to do that.”

“The Maestro made me as #A22041,” Shinku peaceably replied. “You have mentioned it before, Tsunayoshi-sama.”

“Before?”

“You will. At least, this Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama of 2015 will,” Shinku shrugged.

“This Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“Since every act of observation conceivably creates a parallel world according to the many-worlds interpretation of quantum physics, certain temporal markers are needed to keep track of which is which. Unless, of course, you ascribe that yourself will die, therefore creating this world-”

“Thank you, please stop now.” Tsuna was sure that they were sisters, of a sort. No other Box Weapon could ramble with such unhelpful facilitation. “I go back, you guys dismantle the Vongola... what happens then?”

“You all live in peace,” Shinku simply replied. “A lie for the peace of every Vongola member who fought, bled and died in senseless violence begun by others. How is that wrong?”

Tsuna was forced to concede the point. Since his future self was dead... and despite Lambo's summoning him... and all the weapons and collateral damage...

Hibari's expression. Mukuro's morose stare at his breakfast. Chrome's tears when Ken and Chikusa's deaths were reported. Fon-san, still searching for Alouette-san.

A newspaper came barrelling down, slapping his hand and flying up with Yamamoto's face on it.

Tsuna blinked. He was sure there was something wrong, but... “What about the others? Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto, Sasagawa-sempai...?”

A projection, outlined in red, covered the walls. It was a series of newspaper headlines, awash in light but still clear against the brick:

_Youngest Pro to join Samurai Japan..._

_Sushi chef proud of son; cancer survivor reports tickets from the top box..._

_Sister of champion boxer to undergo appendectomy...full recovery..._

_Boxer to dedicate prize money to Sasagawa Kyoko Foundation..._

“I am sorry, but Gokudera-sama does not feature in the public sphere, a facet of his underground work,” Shinku relayed as tears gathered in the corner of Tsuna's eyes. “With the disappearance of the Poison Scorpion, however, he is slated to become heir of his father's family, in the absence of other heirs. Having the reputation of right-hand man to the Vongola Tenth would only bolster his position. Gokudera-sama has expressed strident objections against taking up another Famiglia to continued service in the Vongola. However, the Vongola will be slated to dissolve publicly at the next Commission meeting...”

She trailed off. “Yamamoto Tsuyoshi-sama survived a Millefiore attack, thanks to the Maestro,” she changed the train of conversation. “Sasagawa Kyoko-sama was less fortunate, having fractured her spine and become paraplegic. Maestro is paying for her care in Namimori.”

“M- my mother? Dad? Sasagawa-san became-?” Tsuna shuddered.

“Died in the first wave of Millefiore attacks on Vongola ground, shielding...” she hesitated. “Shielding Lambo-sama. Sasagawa Kyoko-sama is alive, and Sasagawa-sama sees her regularly and safely.”

Tsuna swallowed. “He took care of them, after all.”

“This is only possible because of the stability created by having the Vongola Decimo survive the bloody war.” Shinku bent her waist. “For their sakes, please reconsider your decision. Please come with me.”

“...your older sisters all resorted to force,” Tsuna said after a long silence. “Why do you use this approach, Shinku?”

“#A22041 believes that, at the heart of it, neither of you wish to fight the other sibling.” Shinku replied. “I have been advised that this is the best approach to take, that, quite possibly, your doubt is preventing your movement. Please make your decision now.”

“Now?”

“Yes,” Shinku persuaded. “Or else, the masquerade will be broken, and then your Famiglia will fight between each other.”

“I...” Resolution seized at his heart, giving him strength. “I... I want to see Ie.”

The red flames died. Shinku held out her hand, inviting smile firmly fixed in place and limbs freed of all flame. Tsuna reached across, nearly touching her fingers when he spotted a flash of teal behind her.

“Coming in hot!”

Ama's blue shirt was literally burning as she dived forward, a small gun drawn. The make was unfamiliar to Tsuna, though he was very sure that the bullet was not supposed to explode into a disc of black. The gun barked twice; for what reason, he had a clue once the slender fingers tightened around his wrist.

Shinku reached across, grabbing her orange-clad sister. “Maestro's waiting at home, you bucket of logic gates.”

She leant back, dragging them with her, and behind her, Ama ran into a similar portal. Fon's shout of alarm echoed in Tsuna's ears as, steadily, both portals winked out of existence in time with a third shot.

* * *

“Fon, when you said meteor shower, you forgot to mention the air-strike that came out of nowhere, dammit!” Colonello hollered, hot on Fon's and Reborn's heels with his pet seagull. “Oi!”

“No time!” Fon skidded to a halt, Lichi bouncing on his shoulder. Abovehead fluttered a blue sparrow-lark, carrying a purple clamshell. He turned down into an alley, yelling: “Tsunayoshi!”

Their target, one whose shirt was still burning from Colonello's Maximum Rifle shot, had already let loose three bursts. Two bursts created portals; the last one imploded as the portals winked out, loosening a flare of smoky black about.

The purple clamshell spun in mid-air upon its descent, Murasaki appearing once it was within range of the ground. “Ama, Shinku. They struck when they saw a chance.”

“You mean the mutant weapon girl?” Colonello clarified, pointing to the smoky black flare. “Then what's with that black smoke?”

“It's not smoke. It's a Dying Will Flame,” Reborn gravely said, which was at odds with his cherubic features. His Leon-gun remained cocked, and turned as the smoke began to coalesce into circles, which solidified into portals. “Something's coming...”

Colonello took a step back as shadows exited the portal. Each of them moved with a clink of metal on metal, hidden under the volume of giant black buttoned coats, cravats, and top hats, all black as soot. Bandages covered all of their faces and hands, the only remotely humanoid feature about them. Abruptly, the temperature cooled with each step, until the black portal disappeared behind them.

“Arcobaleno,” rumbled their leader.

“That Flame calls the Vindice here?” Colonello exclaimed.

“Colonello, don't tell you me you didn't expect this so close to Vendicare,” Reborn pointed his semi-automatic up, but did not catch the safety. “Paris has its own things.”

“Yeah, we get it, but someone just blasted our coffee joint, so can't we get, like, a get-out-of-jail-free card?” Colonello gesticulated towards the looming wardens of Vendicare.

“One of you has been using the Flame of our Attribute,” intoned the tallest of the trio.

“It's not ours!” Colonello protested. “Seriously!”

“Murasaki?” Fon asked the living weapon. “Perhaps your input could clarify some misunderstandings right now.”

“That black Flame is  **classified information**?” Murasaki frowned. “The censor virus is still rooted in my comms. I apologise for my inability to respond.”

“Then, the Black Cartridge!” Fon yelled back at her. “Show it to them!”

The Vindice paused in their looming. The action itself took the form of shrinking shadows and the trio of wardens hissing amidst themselves, still watching the Arcobaleno.

“You are a very useless girl,” Reborn commented to Murasaki. “How did the Vongola heiress end up with Fon?”

“I was told by  **classified information**  not to reveal  **classified information**  or  **classified information** ,” Murasaki evenly replied. “Furthermore, I am a Box Weapon that coincidentally takes the face of Amaya Asari as my default projection. The circumstances of my meeting with Fon-sama is  **classified information**.”

“Oh. You're an android.” Reborn's expression took on a look of loathing. “A Box Weapon with such automation?”

The Vindice had stopped conferring between themselves, and their leader now stood there, looming over Murasaki and the three Arcobaleno. “Your accounting of events, the three of you.”

“Sawada Ietsuna is alive!” Fon shouted back. “He stole my mother's corpse from your prison, he stole the Vongola Famiglia, and now he's stolen his twin from the past! He has the black Flame, the Flame that none of us knew about until now, and he's the one wielding it under your noses! Murasaki, tell them! Tell them what you told us!”

The girl froze, almost like a statue. “But... the censor... I cannot tell  **classified information** -”

“Then find a way!” Fon begged.

“What is this farce?!” the warden growled. “You will back off if you know what is good for you.”

“Murasaki, there is no time!” Fon protested. “We cannot afford to get into trouble with the Vindice right now. Do something to explain to them!”

The Vindice impatiently clinked as he moved. “Enough. We will arrest all of you now.”

A hand caught the chain. Multiple hands sprouted along the chain, the limbs collectively bending back onto the Vindice member and his compatriots. They cursed, fumbling as the hands grabbed and twisted, limbs sprouting from their backs to slowly twist their bodies into shapes beyond recognition.

Murasaki's skin split, indigo Mist Flame pouring out from the seams as Lightning sparked in the tears of her human skin. With the appearance of a badly-patched science experiment, Murasaki inhaled.

“Reporting, Vongola dei Cieli Rete Vongole unit #4F284B, designation Murasaki. First of the Veneridae Big Seven, printed and activated on command of Maestro.” The last three words had to be spat out with visible effort. “I am an artificially intelligent Cloud-Attribute Box Weapon, taking the physical shape of the amethyst gem clam, species  _Gemma gemma_. What is speaking is my mental model used for reconnaissance and general purposes, including combat. My current armaments include one Beretta 92FS with Black Cartridge, twenty slaved daemon units, and thirty auxiliary daemon units, on top of my Propagation manipulation. My ability is to duplicate myself, whether parts of myself, or mutated clones of myself and my sister units, like a 3D printer. And... my purpose... is to follow orders. Interpretation: delay the Vindice here.”

“You're under arrest, girl.”

“Murasaki...” Fon's eyes grew wide. “Can't you explain?”

“I am unable to defy the parameters of my programming.” Murasaki acknowledged as a black-covered chain snaked around her arm, fighting the purple flame that burned along its length back to a Vindice member. The violet flame died, and with it Murasaki's entire form. A purple clamshell dropped to the ground, bouncing on dirt-riddled stone.

“...” The Vindice looked down, and then back to the Arcobaleno.

“We're listening.”

* * *

The Mist Flame that burst alight on the candlestick that Fran was watching was his cue. Fran sighed as he started to cook crepes, pulling out along with the standard ingredients of flour, butter, sugar and eggs a medicinal jar.

After a beat, he moved it away from the very large aquarium standing next to the stove. The aquarium had been a joke; a way to keep seafood even fresher than it could be out on the Mediterranean Sea itself. Lorenzo later stored the False Vongole units in there before they were used to kill the Vongola Ninth Generation and the former CEDEF chief.

As he laid out the crepes, he reached for the icing sugar and fruit before taking up the medicinal powder jar. He read the label as he set an electronic scale to tare, dropping a paper saucer on the scale. The shiny metal surface of the scale's plate reflected the label:

  **  
****OLANZAPINE** **  
C17H20N4S  
****100 mg/dose  
****USE WHEN ONLY NECESSARY  
 **

Below that, someone had written in red caps:

  _ **  
NOT**_ _ **FOR**_ _ **PRANKS**_ __ **, FRAN – V** **  
**

“What are you doing?” Shoichi asked as he walked into the open kitchen to see Fran, a frying pan, and combustible fats in the form of unsalted butter. The last kitchen disaster was still fresh in his mind, Fran deduced, since the first thing the scientist did was rush for the fire extinguisher.

“Berry-poo is gonna need to synthesise more,” Fran commented as he measured out exactly zero point one gram of the white powder onto a pre-prepared saucer. “When did he switch from risperidone?”

“Long story. Elmo was involved.”

“Huh.”

At Fran's look, Shoichi elaborated: “Apparently, Elmo's tendency to shift materials through space includes liquids. That is some incredible precision on her part, but very creepy.”

The powder was mixed into some icing sugar, which Fran scattered onto a plate of crepes and poured some fruit syrup and jam. “Duly noted. She can teleport drugs into other people's blood. Now, let's ask her to teleport this into his system.”

“She'll never do it.”

“Then I'm going to give this to him and break some news to him,” Fran rolled his eyes at the scientist. “The batter and butter's here. Make your own pancakes.”

Shoichi blinked. “But... what about the galley cook?”

Fran pointed to the aquarium.

Shoichi blinked at the twin flesh-coloured clams bubbling within the water, and fumbled away from it. “The Lyrata twins? They're on shift?”

“Permanently assigned to the galley, yep. Don't eat them.”

“They can cook,” Shoichi grumbled, but sidled towards the gimballed stove as Fran laid out two plates of crepes onto a tray with two cups and a pot of coffee. “Remember to ask him about Byakuran.”

“Yeah, I'll just mention visitation to the guy in the IC brig that killed his brother.” Fran's left eyebrow lifted.

Shoichi raised one of his.

Fran raised one.

Shoichi raised his other.

Fran raised _his_ other.

Then they both raised both.

Finally, there seeming no other policy to pursue, Fran elected to be the better man and beat a hasty retreat. As Fran left, he heard Shoichi say: “#F1BF99 twinned units, the stoves, if you please.”

By some weird property of their location, Fran managed to find his friend's quarters and sauntered towards the hammock, upending it as he set the tray on the small table just beyond.

The body that thumped onto the ground made a muffled swear: “MMMHHH. Uggh you.”

“The orgasm comes after the crepes, not before,” Fran reminded Lorenzo as he perched on the table, grabbing a plate.

“Well, since all your crepes taste like vulcanised rubber, forgive me if I praise them before I eat them since they'll still lose out on the overall score.” The chief executive of Nocturne Consulting & Associates glowered as he got up, rubbing his eyes. “I thought I'd be in bed.”

“You're not working, I'm not working, and we're planning the so-called non-denominational winter holiday. And things,” Fran added. “So I got Elmo to dump you into the hammock you keep aboard before she left to impersonate you as your brother. Why so PC about it?”

“I'm not a practising Catholic, for one. For another, neither is Kurokawa, or Skull-san, or I-Pin-”

“Okay, okay,” Fran lifted one hand in a gesture of surrender. “But Christmas is a commercial holiday, right? I think only the Americans care about that.”

“The Americans, Canadians, the English, anyone with an opinion on religious institutions...” Fingers fluttered out in rough gesticulation as Lorenzo, twenty-five years old now, took a plate and a fork from Fran and sat on the only chair in the room. “Not that you care, if the way you're stealing my crepes is any indication.”

“You're the one who called them vulcanised rubber,” Fran stuck his tongue out, but watched him eat the crepes dusted in anti-psychotics. “I got the recipe from that email from Makoto-san, Lorenzo. You'll like them. I added something special.”

“Then they're supposed to be galettes.” Lorenzo took a bite, and his eyes widened. “These are...”

“They're a bit salty.” Fran's fingers tapped on the table, skittering about like a drunk spider.

“No, I meant, I couldn't taste anything until now, so this is great.” Lorenzo fell silent. “Fran. What did you do?”

“Now I'm offended. I made pancakes for you out of the goodness of my heart- calm down and listen, we're getting a visitor,” Fran added. “Shinku reported in. He's coming here.”

“Who?”

“Your twin? From the past?”

The fork dropped. “ _Now_?!”

Fran took a deep breath. “There's no need to get flustered-”

“I do not fluster!”

“-he's just your brother, you can go see him without pulling the red carpet.”

“I'd be nice to see Ie again.”

Fran let the silence stretch until amber eyes blinked in surprise.

“Oh. _I'm-_ Tsuna is coming here.” Then Lorenzo just looked at the emptied plate in his hands until a cup of coffee replaced the plate. He looked at the mug of coffee burning his hand, eyebrows climbing until he reached his hairline.

“You cooked?” he finally asked.

“What, can't cook for a friend?”

“Was it under supervision?” came the retort.

“Yes, the redhead scientist that keeps demanding visitation supervised me,” lied the illusionist.

“No, he didn't. Shoichi has too much self-preservation to stay around you when you're holding clarified butter.” Lorenzo looked increasingly upset. “Is my galley on fire? Is my _ship_ on fire?!”

The look turned hopeful. “If the brig's on fire, I'll forgive you.”

“That'll be difficult, since it's mostly liquid. The brig, I mean.” Fran pointed out. “And you don't want the prisoner to die, do you?”

“I want to kill him all the time,” A smile crossed his face as he sat up. “Can we do that at last?”

“You said you needed his sympathetic connection to the Sky Mare Ring,” Fran pointed out.

“I did? Oh, I did until Helene got her issues worked out.” A frowned creased his brow, furrowing over amber eyes that glinted with light. “What was I keeping him for?”

There was the problem. “For Shoichi?”

“Ai can fool Shoichi. She's done it before.” The frown deepened. “ _Why_ has she done it before? Never mind,” he changed tracks, mumbling to himself as his neck jerked and swayed from side to side. “Byakuran should be flayed alive. He killed Tsuna. Tsuna was me.” He paused. “I should have died.”

The empty plate was set down. “I'm good.”

Fran put his own plate on top of his friend's, smiling. “Do you feel sleepy?”

“Yes, Fran.” Amber eyes blinked slowly.

“Shoichi's been informed. He'll keep your brother entertained,” Fran told the other. “I'm sorry that I had to do this, but you told me to do it! You signed a paper and everything!”

“I did?” A blink. “Oh.”

Fran released a long breath through his mouth, breathing in through his nose. “Yes, you did. I'm not going to show it to you, just so you know.”

“Oh.”

“You're going to sleep now.” Fran told him, adding a layer of Mist Flame over the amber eyes of his boss as he lifted the other by the shoulder. “When you wake up, you're going to act sane. Because this is the brother that you loved so much, your brain literally shorted out when he died.”

The boss of Nocturne bent easily under his ministrations into the hammock, which folded over him. “I did? How was that like?”

Fran bowed his head. “You were very sad. Then you dressed up as your brother to take the Vongola, and then you killed the Giglio Nero Boss in a fit. You dissected Byakuran alive. He barely survived. We barely stopped you. Now you're just listening to me without reacting, which is a blunted affect. It'll get better once you fall asleep.”

“Oh.” A smile formed as amber eyes closed. “Okay.”

Fran sighed as his Boss relaxed into the hammock. Last night had been a good night. Granted, all nights tended to be good when he was fine.

“We all have bad days, but you're the only one I know who has all bad days,” he told the sleeping figure. “You'd better hope the nights are worth it, my dear.”


	45. Folio 44: Sgraffito

 

Skull was already running when four of the six Arcobaleno started after the explosion caused by Ama and Shinku. Verde had much more sense staying put, he conceded, but the 'Stuntman Hated by the Grim Reaper' was still technically on the clock with the Simon Famiglia.

“Skull!” Shit, that was Lal Mirch. “Where're you going?!”

“I got kids to look after!” Skull shouted back, already ramming his helmet in place as he mounted an Ecosse Heretic. The engine barely gave a hum before he was off, tearing up asphalt and granite paving to make his way, swerving down a back alley off the Allée des Myosotis. A heartbeat later, a Renault Fluence appeared from a portal, nearly landing on Skull himself.

His helmet beeped.

“I may have blown our cover,” Verde confessed over the near-field comm once Skull tapped the brow once to accept the call.

“You _what_?!” Skull screeched, though he was already turning with the car down  Avenue Marceau. “What happened?”

“The Vindice appeared. I ran.”

“Fon is here, meeting Reborn, Colonello, Lal and Mammon,” Skull counted. “Are the Vindice after us?”

“Well-” a pause. “Elmo just messaged. Apparently, the rest of the Arcobaleno sans Mammon decided that raiding the Castello took precedent over wondering where we went. Or chasing after us. The Vindice moved them to the beach.”

“The... Vindice?”

“Elmo... sent a photo. Ai confirmed Checker Face's death.” The undercurrent of vindictive pleasure made itself apparent with Verde's professionalism. “They did it.”

Skull barely caught it over the roar of his engine. “Hell yeah! Now we just have to tell the others, and they'll get off his back, right?”

Verde took a while to ponder. “Skull-”

“I mean, he's done what none of us managed to do,” Skull babbled. “The Vongola dei Cieli killed Checker Face. Isn't that, like, proof that he's on our side? Colonello would totally support him.”

Verde tried again. “Skull-”

“And he's a great hitman, unlike us, Verde-sempai. Strong and vicious, unforgiving and, really, how many people do you know who can fool Mammon by acting if we didn't tell her? I mean, we just need to convince all of us to step in while the Vongola's dismantling itself, and then he'll be able to finish the job and we'll be able to lay low at that deserted island-”

“Skull, that's never going to happen!” Verde cut in over the Cloud's babbling.

A deep breath followed over the silence, before Verde gave his explanation. “Ietsuna is strong and talented. He is also anti-social and prefers underhanded methods mixed with daring risks. He never negotiates. He makes a great criminal, but very few people would follow him as a Boss, precisely because he doesn't forgive easily. You know that. Lal Mirch would kill him if she knew his role in Sawada Iemitsu's murder. Reborn would hate Ietsuna, just because he's my student. Fon would murder him for Alouette Lei. And let's not forget the... Sky Arcobaleno. You nearly cut ties with him when we found out, and that was a very near thing. Colonello and Reborn would never accept the one who killed Luce's granddaughter.”

There was a beat of silence. “Yeah... sure, but... he freed us from the curse.”

“There's a reason why he kept our involvement secret, Skull.” Verde's tone was flat. “At this stage, whether he wins or not, Ietsuna gave us a way out. Go check on your kids, Skull.”

“Yeah, I'm going! W- What about you, Verde-sempai?”

Verde did not reply for a brief moment. “I'm securing my funds.”

“Huh? Sempai, don't you remember that you already have control of-”

“My human resources, Skull. That includes my student.” Verde sighed. “A man who can teleport is too useful a gopher to discard.”

He hung up.

Skull listen to the beep, giggling as he swerved up to a youth hostel, and shocked the red-haired boy and girl currently climbing the building façade. “Mami! Concentrate, or your skirt's gonna flip!”

“Shut up, Skull! I'm concentrating!” the girl yelled back.

The boy hung from one arm, clutching a window-sill to blink at Skull. “Skull-san? Adel's still with Julie-”

“Right, whatever. There's an explosion and... Arcobaleno business, alright? I gotta- go.” Skull fibbed. “Enma, I need you to stay away from all Vongola business for the next two weeks. You're not involved anymore, should be easy. Hold your protests, make sure Rauji stays within the food budget, you got my number.”

Enma Kozato blinked. “Um, sure? Will you be back, Skull-san?”

Unable to find a response, Skull drove off to find a spot without traffic cameras. He might not have been asked explicitly, but Nocturne had been very good and discreet about his involvement. The Arcobaleno did not have his loyalty. Nocturne did. So he was going to throw in his lot with Nocturne.

Reborn could suck on an egg.

* * *

Natsu was scooped up by Elmo as she made her way out of the office. It made for an odd sight, a man carrying a lion cub with a visor and a flaming mane in the Vongola mansion, but everyone they passed merely greeted her with a 'Padrino' before moving on with the business of the hour; the escaped Spanner.

A man dressed in a buttoned blue shirt accosted them, his oodachi still flaming with cyan fire.

“Takeshi,” she said, still under her cover as the Vongola Decimo. “What happened? Is everyone safe?”

“Tsuna!” Yamamoto brightened. “Yeah. Everyone's safe, it's just a guy who escaped on a Lightning Goat.”

“A... goat?” She made sure to blink three times. “Why?”

“I don't know,” Yamamoto shrugged. “Gokudera might.”

And here, her full attention turned to him. “Are you arguing?”

“No... he's on one of those...” Yamamoto fidgeted. “He's trying to balance his heritage. Half-Italian and half-Japanese. Apparently he thinks that... after this Mafia thing is taken down, and he's taking over his own Famiglia... wow, what's that word he used? Like, he needs to be Italian at his job so he wants to be Japanese at home?”

“Passing?”

“Yeah, that one!” Yamamoto chuckled. “You've gotten smarter, Tsuna. I think no one in Namimori would have expected Sawada Tsunayoshi to be so smart, eh?”

“And nobody expected Yamamoto Takeshi to work with me, so we're even.” The smile was wan. “Hayato shouldn't have to feel obligated,” a frown conjured for verisimilitude. “Takeshi, do you think this is just... trying out? Or... is he distancing himself from us? For... safety?”

“I think it's a phase, Tsuna.” the Rain nodded. “He wouldn't believe that. It's just Bianchi being missing.”

“I hope Bianchi is fine and will appear soon. Hayato will worry himself sick.” A look was cast to the ground. “I heard from Tsuyoshi-san about... university?”

“Ah, yeah!” Takeshi shrugged. “I'm not getting any younger, and I'd like to try it! I got scouted out of high school baseball, so I never really thought about it, but... the old man keeps saying that education would open up all sorts of roads! Though I'm not the type to read books. He's great! Arms still working and all. Nana-san said that they're in Kumamoto for a trip.”

“That's the only good thing the divorce made,” was the bitter response. “I'm not the type to read books too. I have Ie's books, and I open them sometimes. He reads very complex stuff. I can't read some of them, they're in French. The only thing I really get is the Japanese translation of _The Count of Monte Cristo._ ”

“Ah, the King of the Cave, right?” Yamamoto asked.1 “I didn't know he watched sci-fi.”

“It's not sci-fi originally.” The Vongola Decimo said. “I wished I learnt French, but...” a sigh. “Wait, and hope, I guess.”

“Ah, Hayato's bringing Lambo and Sempai to chase the intruder.” Yamamoto kept smiling. “Hope he doesn't blow up a building.”

“Knowing Hayato, I'm not going to bet.” A smile quirked. “I bet Sasagawa-sempai would join him. Lambo...”

“Lambo's more understated, he learnt from Ietsuna like I-Pin.” Yamamoto frowned. “Where is I-Pin, anyway?”

“She's working the winter holiday part-time travel agency, she keeps moving. Seeing the world,” this came with a full frown. “She's so young. I need to go ask her about Christmas. We'll all be stuck here until next year, so we might as well do Advent here. One last party while we still have the rotting pile.”

“You're going to sell the place, Tsuna?” Yamamoto blinked.

“Well, what else is going to sponsor my schooling?” A slight smile graced his visage. “For security, I was thinking about fire insurance payouts. Razing it to the ground would end all our secrets, once and for all. And then, we'll finally be able to spend our lives together.”

“Tsuna...” Yamamoto swallowed. He was not smiling, absorbing the implications. “University might be fun if I'm with you! Well, you stay here, I'm going to secure the perimeter or Gokudera is going to kill me. Do you think he'll come along?”

Yamamoto walked off before Elmo could deliver the reply, though she paused as she received a ping. “Ah. It is done.”

* * *

No one in the chaotic Iron Fort, the headquarters of the main Vongola Family, noticed as the Man in the Iron Hat strode through the halls, called by a burning Sky Flame. Inexorably drawn by the call of the all-reaching, Checker Face walked up a flight of stairs, unseen as he slipped into the great study.

Rokudo Mukuro's brains squelched under the tip of the man's cane. Tapping it against the Axminster, Checker Face gave an unreadable gaze towards the dark-haired girl bedecked in white splashed with blood.

The eyes of the Giglio Nero seers were blank. “I... I didn't expect this.”

“I could hardly ignore a plan to meddle with the Arcobaleno system,” was the crisp reply, though Checker Face approached her, offering a comforting pat. “Humans. You know who we are; we are the last two members of our species.”

Yuni blinked as Checker Face paused, a hand covering his chest. Another presence deepened, and he turned around, blinking. “Wonomichi...? Something's wrong, Yuni.”

“I agree, Man in the Iron Hat. Or do you prefer being called Kawahira?”

“You're...” Utter fury crossed his face as he grabbed the front of her dress and hauled her to his face. “Where is the Sky Arcobaleno? Where is she-”

Blood bloomed across the front of his double-breasted coat, shattering his mask and disguise to show the pale face framed with white hair. The bullet that had shot out his heart had chewed through his Mist Flame and his torso muscles, outrunning its sonic boom to run through his diaphragm, heart and aorta before exiting his body in fragments. Arterial spray covered more of his clothes as he struggled, and he made a horrified sound as human phalanges started to tear out through his body from within, worsening the damage.

“Do you like them? The Meretrix series of the Rete Vongole Box Animal units, fresh from the High House of the Sea Clam,” Yuni shrugged as the spark of her Pacifier's orange melted, shifting colour into the dark indigo associated with Mist Flame. She held up a hand, two rings gracing the appendage. One was the rainbow ammolite; another was a ring shaped in a spiralling horn. “Our Maestro called them the False Vongole – named for the Philippine clam, _Venerupis philippinarum_. You would know it as the Asari clam. According to our tracking, you eat soy sauce ramen, salt ramen, and miso ramen. That is a lot of salt. Luckily, our Maestro knows your delivery girl, and you had the seafood ramen last week.”

The Man in the Iron Hat froze, then relaxed as he spotted the horn ring. “You look so much like her. Sephira...”

“I do not care,” Yuni's face began to crackle.

The fleshy mask drooped, hanging off the small chin by a thin thread, as Checker Face watched. Yuni's face was oddly deflated as the mass of skin and hair dropped to the ground, removing the aura of the all-seeing Sky, and leaving a body. The body looked greyish and fleshy, fibrous muscle bunching and shifting as it stepped out of the peeled layer and stared with the expressionless eyes set in the sockets of the fibrous weaving that was it's face.

Indigo flame burst from the weaving, skin made luminous by the Sicilian sun washing over the ugly oyster-ash, hair made dark and eyes made blue shifted towards their true amber. White robes were replaced by the indigo wrap dress that outlined a deep V over her torso. Amber hair flared out like feathers, each individual quill waving towards her temples and the back of her head, creating an impression like the wings of a bird.

She raised her hand; the two rings already on it glowed with indigo fire.

“Who are you?” Checker Face gaped as the arm in his stomach continued scrabbling to tear him apart from within. The horn ring... “That's... the Cornicello Hell Ring. That ring cancels out my Segno Ring, and all Mist powers.”

“I?” said the stranger, in a voice very different from Yuni. “Rete Vongole, Veneridae series, unit #264348. Maestro calls me Ai. I have been waiting for two years to kill you, Mr Checker Face.”

“Ai... indigo,” Checker Face snorted, wincing in pain as the forearm actually managed to pull itself out. “So, your Maestro... why could I not see him? How did I fall this far? And you... you're not human. You're not... living. Neither human nor animal... and your transforming ability, even to copy the Flame signature...”

My sisters may only change their forms, but Ai can seamlessly assimilate any individual.” Ai replied. “Memories, tics, actions, mannerisms... all are flawlessly copied. I have copied and assimilated Donna Giglio Nero for two years, waiting.”

“Flawlessly copied... two years, you said?” Checker Face sighed. “What would you do, if I had sent an illusion instead oof coming here personally?”

“Does it matter?” asked Ai, indelicate and blunt. “After all, now you know what the Maestro intended for you. You are all alone on this planet now.”

“All alone...” Kawahira trembled. Mist Flame raged, even as he coughed blood as his oesophagus was torn apart from within. “Yuni is dead? _The last of my kind is dead by your hand?!_ ”

“That is incorrect, Mr Checker Face.” Ai's face split in a grin. “ _You_ are the last of your kind. You are still alive. You have been very remiss in your duties. That is why Maestro is punishing you.”

“Remiss?” Kawahira stared at her.

“We have destroyed the Vongola Rings, six of the Mare Rings, and the Sky Pacifier, and it took you this long to notice that anything was wrong? How is it not remiss?” Ai replied.

Kawahira huffed, this motion causing him to choke as his ribcage started breaking apart. “Fine. I get it. I've been remiss in my duties to monitor the Tri-Ni-Sette. Can I ask why, though? Why all the secrecy? You must know the consequences. The fate of this world rests upon the Tri-Ni-Sette.”

“Ai cannot speak for Maestro. But,” and here she cocks her head, “it is irrelevant to Ai, anyway. Ai was also supposed to tell you something.”

“What?” Kawahira warily stared at her.

Indigo flame like wispy incense smoke burst from her fingertips, shooting forth to strike his forehead.

“I have downloaded the data necessary into your head,” Ai explained. “Maestro postulated that the Tri-Ni-Sette was a system put in place to maximise the average quality of life across the history of the planet. To that end, the dimensions of space and time needed to be fixed, and constants made to create, calibrate and regulate. Nona, Decima, and Morta. The source of flame; the bestower of colour; and the executioner that sucked Flame to be dispelled into the black. Bridged across space and time, the Tri-Ni-Sette calculated the birth, fates, and deaths of all life on the planet.”2

“Then he has my compliments,” breathed the maker of the Arcobaleno, “for divining its true purpose on his own.”

“Seven, seven, and seven, to create seven powered to the cube – but that is wrong,” Ai continued. “Even the absence of a signal is a mark on data. The concept of nothing needed representation, even in a supercomputer. Seven, plus the concept of zero, led him to conclude that the Tri-Ni-Sette, despite its names, was made for the _octal_ base system, not the heptagesimal system so many assumed with the Dying Will Flames of the Sky.

“To that end, he asked himself: what represented this nothing? How is it possible for  _ex nihilo_ to be accounted for? He found it in his birthright, the Flame of Night. What he thought, and what the Vindice replied, was that it was a Flame born of hate and despair. But it did not, could not, exist with the universal truth he knew. He is a person who could eat Poison Cooking, resist disease, exist without smell, hearing or touch, live by constantly sucking Flame from his surroundings. Despite all the skills, all the lack of conscience, he had restraint, could learn to be patient, to wait. By all rights, he should be a zombie, like the cursed Vindice. Instead, he was alive, wonderfully and happily alive. How could his paradoxical existence exist without contradiction nor flaws, in which the balance of the whole is maintained?”

Comprehension came slowly, to inspire great horror. “Decima. The lot of his fate was cut, but still changed. Because the Tri-Ni-Sette system already ended him, it could no longer affect him. His rank, his fate, his life could no longer exist.”

His eyes fell on Mukuro, who lay, mismatched eyes blank and clouded in death. “For him to hide within his brother's existence... would still let him affect the fates of others,” Checker Face concluded. “A monster who could no longer be killed, but can kill others. The monster hidden within the depths of the clam.”

Ai inclined her head. “Exactly. Our Maestro realised, that his brother had changed the lot of his fate, hiding him from the world by his very presence. Yes; Sawada Tsunayoshi's existence eclipsed Sawada Ietsuna from the record of the Tri-Ni-Sette – he became an entity that never existed according to the database of life and death, whose future did not exist, who lay entirely outside of the system that controlled the planet Earth which would have ended him... and yet he was alive. Here he was, proof that the system could be manipulated, could be destroyed... could destroy, could rewrite fate. All of Byakuran's research, all of the secrets that the Box Weapon research was meant for, all the purpose of the Tri-Ni-Sette, was to determine the constant of inevitability, for one sole purpose; to rewrite and control the Tri-Ni-Sette. Our Maestro has won the race; he has computed the end of all things, and in doing so he has won the greatest power in the world. It will trigger the destructor programming within the Tri-Ni-Sette.”

“The world will be destroyed,” Kawahira pleaded. “Did you know that? Byakuran sought this same power. Every holder of the Tri-Ni-Sette in history has sought the power of God, and... and they must never get it. Humans... humans are not prepared.”

“Ai is a Box Weapon. Ai's purpose is to follow orders. The fate of the world is irrelevant in the face of Ai's orders. The fate of the world is death if Ai is commanded to end it.” Ai slowly blinked, watching Kawahira's expression change into slow despair. “You may survive. You may not. Ai will not know. In the end, though, it is irrelevant when we can rewrite it at the Maestro's will. Goodbye.”

The serene expression she bore endured as Kawahira's trachea gave out, and his neck bent backwards, cracking the hyoid bone. Another arm, the right to the left arm in the stomach, wrenched through his hippocampus in a bloody shower of ichor, ending the body's physical life. Ai raised her hand, condensing a mass of indigo Dying Will Flames over the corpse.

It rested, a pearl of indigo formed before Ai crushed it.

Ai blinked, taking an image capture and forwarding it via quantum communication to the Administrator to confirm her kill. “The mission is done, Ki-aka. Rise, #EC6800.”

The face of Amaya Asari scowled as she tore herself out of Checker Face's body. Blood and the contents of his stomach flowed in rivulets down her form, before she winked out of existence, replaced by a soggy lump of flesh. Ai knelt down, packing the stuff away into a tiny orange shell, which she stowed into the front of her wrap dress, before she turned on her heel and left the carnage.

Yamamoto's beaming grin started to fade when he approached the study, spotting Tsuna's adopted child walking to him. “Hi Amaya! Say, where are you-?”

“Go to sleep, Yamamoto Takeshi-sama.” Amaya slapped him, indigo flame burning.

Yamamoto was snoring before he hit the ground. Ai caught him, cradling him as she pushed him to lean on the wall, resting on the ground and saved from slamming his head against the ground. Despite the care she took in correcting his posture, Ai walked down the hallway without looking back, into a black portal that appeared in the middle of nowhere, and disappeared.

* * *

A black portal opened, perpendicular over an expanse of white to allow its users to walk instead of fall. Irie Shoichi approached the portal, Yamabuki following behind him in a yellow sundress with calico frills. The nervousness of his emotions seemed to correspond with the desire to rush to the bathroom writ large on his visage.

“Ama, Shinku...” he blinked as a brown-haired, amber-eyed boy fell out of the portal, followed by the youngest of the Veneridae Big Seven, Ōtan. “-Ōtan? And... Sawada Tsunayoshi?”

Tsuna looked up at the mention of his full name. And up some more. The expanse of white fed out to high vaulted ceilings, arched and ridged like the spines of eels to bend and hang about a space that seemed more expansive than the whole of Namimori. The arches stood to make a circle, feeding down to six pillars that framed six ports surrounding them, each set with its own multicoloured, shimmering glassy panel. Blue predominated the colour; dark blue playing a backdrop to the splashes of colour about. Hooks protruded and rose from each china-like pillar, each bearing a brilliant argent light from bowls shaped like the bottom half of a clam.

“Where are we? Who are you?”

“Ah, this is the entrance hall of the Castello di Vongola,” Shoichi said. “Yamabuki set it up, I think, and we're talking while you're currently under decontamination. This isn't exactly mass-market, so don't... talk about it. I have no idea what Ie- I mean, Lorenzo, was thinking.”

“Notre-Dame de Reims, axial chapel windows. Marc Chagall, '74.” Tsuna's lips twitched at the older scientist's double-take. “Ie had a book on the man. I remember his efforts at stained glass.”

Those same efforts had fallen to one of Lambo's grenades, Tsuna recalled. While Ie never tried another stained-glass-work to Tsuna's knowledge, it seemed his passion for art had not been forgotten.

“Really?” Shoichi squinted at the panels, leaving Tsuna to study the yellow-dressed girl behind the man. “I'm Irie Shoichi. I worked for... the two of you. I'm not sure how to explain it.”

“He trusts you, I think,” Tsuna frowned at the other girl in yellow. She felt like Ama, Shinku, even Murasaki and Midori; purpose harnessed and waiting to be unleashed. Ōtan, in comparison, felt lost – probably because of her reformatting, thought Tsuna. “And you are...?”

A quick curtsy, calico frills flaring. “Unit #F8B500, Yamabuki. Second of the Big Seven.”

Tsuna made a quick count. “Will I meet the seventh soon?”

A smile, complete with vacant amber eyes. “May #F8B500 offer you some refreshments? Some clarification?”

“I'm not sure what I need clarification about,” Tsuna finally stopped smiling. “Since I'm kidnapped against my will, by robots that my lying brother made to help him fool my friends into thinking that I'm alive in the future, when I'm not.”

“#F8B500 was talking about sending you back to your time,” Yamabuki replied. “Since you are here, and time need not be wasted.”

Tsuna made for his gloves. Two arms grabbed his wrists and twisted; two more went for his pockets and took the box of Basil's pills and the mittens. Ama let go, and Shinku held up the two artefacts that he'd kept on his person right before Ama clocked him over the head.

“Oh god,” Shoichi sighed as Tsuna nearly hit the floor if not for Ōtan's intervention. “The two of you are- this is inappropriate! Enzo's going to kill all of us! _Elmo's_ going to kill all of us!”

A portal formed, dropped the Administrator of the Clam Network with a bag of groceries and a flaming lion cub before them.

Elmo's eyes narrowed at the sight of two sisters studiously glaring at the floor, Yamabuki's slight chuckle, and Ōtan's blank look. “#F8B500, #2CA9E1, #A22041, explain. Wait, drag Uncle to a bed, _then_ explain. Elmo will not be the one to tell Papa what happened here. Irie-sama, you may begin.”

“What? Why am I explaining?”

“Because the Veneridae sisters will be occupied,” her eyes turned to the arches, which had just turned transparent as a low hum started around the hall. “#4F284B detected with four high-profile hostiles at landing zone. Battle stations.”

   


<https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/91/Chagall_windows_Reims_Cathedral.JPG> By Peter Lucas

* * *

Going to the farthest reaches of the planet was much simpler with the Vindice. After the portal dumped four Arcobaleno – counting Lal – and a living Box Weapon on a beach, he could testify about such things. The fact that the Vindice, for once, were on hi side was very comforting.

“Please do not move,” said the autonomous Box Weapon, who was Tsuna's adopted daughter. No, the Decimo's adopted ward, Reborn told himself. Or a copy thereof. “There are area denial munitions set out.”

Lal Mirch, who had started towards the coastline the moment the beach was apparent to her, stepped back. “What type?”

“Rete Vongole, Cerastoderma series, units #867BA9, #5B3256, #763568 and #E95295.”

Murasaki remained nonplussed as Reborn shot her a dirty look. “Cockles?”

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.”

Lal shot a side look at the robotic reiteration. “That is creepy. Please never say it again.”

Murasaki was not paying attention, having opted to stare at the Vindice wardens as they disappeared into thin air. “Interesting.”

The reason for the wardens' disappearance was, eminently, the rise of four red-tinged clams burning with violet fire from the sandy beach. Reborn barely shot one of them before they all exploded.

* * *

_**1 The first Japanese translation by Kuroiwa Shūroku was entitled "Shigai Shiden Gankutsu-ou" (** _ _**史外史伝巌窟王** _ _**, "a historical story from outside history, the King of the Cavern").** _

_**Though later translations use the title "Monte Cristo-haku" (** _ _**モンテ・クリスト伯** _ _**, the Count of Monte Cristo), the "Gankutsu-ou" title remains highly associated with the novel and is often used as an alternative.** _

_**As of March 2016, all movie adaptations of the novel brought to Japan used the title "Gankutsu-ou", with the exception of the 2002 film, which has it as a subtitle (with the title itself simply being "Monte Cristo").** _

_**Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo (Japanese: ** _ _**巌窟王** _ _**Hepburn: Gankutsuō?, literally The King of the Cavern) is an animé series loosely based on the novel.** _

_**2 In ancient Roman religion and myth, the Parcae were the female personifications of destiny. Ai is speaking comparatively; all humans are born (Nona) and then allotted one primary Flame (Decima) over the course of their lives, before meeting their end (Morta).** _


	46. Folio 45: Protoquadro

 

_The Sea knows no bounds._

_The Clam passes down its form from Generation to Generation._

_The Rainbow appears from time to time before fading away..._

…

_.._

_._

“He's getting away!”

“Get him!”

It was Namimori, and he was running from gunshots and flashes of blue and purple. As he turned a corner, a blue-haired baby wearing aviators tackled him, freezing in a flash of white light-

“Damn you, Basil,” Ietsuna's voice issued from Tsuna's mouth as a palette knife blocked a very familiar Metal Edge, wielded by a familiar-looking Basil, whose cyan forehead Flame started to wilt and solidify upon clashing, “why is he after me now?”

“My master sent me to kill you, Ietsuna-dono,” Basil replied. “That is why Lal Mirch of the Arcobaleno is here as well. You are, in every way, the superior heir, but you have no heart for the Vongola-”

Basil was head-butted ; the Flame froze as a punch was thrown in for good measure, and Ietsuna ran away from the frozen Basil as gunshots and shouts echoed behind him.  It was only when a circle of black Flame began to materialise  in front of his eyes that Tsuna realised that this was not his memories; it was Ietsuna's.  Perhaps some fragment forgotten by Fran,  left to unlock  the mystery of his abandoned twin...

…

..

.

Why scenes kept drifting in and out of darkness, Tsuna could not comprehend. Yet when the light came next, the blue-haired baby had become a woman after breaking out from the ball of everlasting ice – the Zero Point Breakthrough. That was when a shot ran out and she gave a cry.

“For god's sake, Ietsuna!” Skull – adult-sized, Tsuna recognised, physically put himself between the woman and his view. It was definitely his brother's memories – in the future, but no less important for the simple fact of its owner.

“She is an Arcobaleno,” his brother stated. “Precautions are good.”

“Kneecapping is not good!” Skull trembled.

“He's... right, Skull...” the woman gritted her teeth as the view changed, towards a heavy first-aid kit in a large plastic drawer. “Permanent injury is the best way to ensure that the prisoner does not escape. I presume my effects have been relieved as well.”

The view jittered – a nod – as the view dropped. “Please hold out your leg, Ms Lal Mirch. Flames can do much, but the fragments must be dug out.”

Lal Mirch's gaze seemed to be a physical weight, though his attention was fixed entirely on bandaging the leg to a splint. “You have nerve, to kneecap me just to keep me here. And you have knowledge.”

“'When a doctor goes wrong, he is amongst the first of criminals',” Ietsuna's voice quoted. “The Case of the Speckled Band. Classic Holmes.”

“That is what I do not understand,” Lal Mirch admitted. “You have the talent and nerve to be a first-class criminal. You are not hampered by conventional morality, or punishment. There is nothing holding you back. As a Mafia Boss, why would they pick him? No matter the Flame type, _you're_ the one who's heartless enough to survive.”

The hiss that came from Lal Mirch's lips followed the welling of blood from the wound as Ietsuna used medical pliers to pick through.

“Lacking Flames is not the most important,” Ietsuna's voice was quiet. “In order to become the Boss, one must actually care for the Family; all members of it, no exceptions. That is Tsuna's strength, and really the centre of Boss relations. Try as I might, I need to care about Tsuna first to care about other people. Otherwise it's just... manipulation. Personal cost-benefit.”

A pause; a moment of consideration before the pliers twisted, causing Lal to hiss and curse. A metal-jacketed bullet, still stained with blood, was dropped into blood-soaked bandages. “When he became heir, we agreed that one of us had to live outside of the underworld. Tsuna made it a condition that I could not join CEDEF or the Vongola proper. The Varia hate me, because I bear the same face that stands between Xanxus and the Tenth position. Iemitsu sent you to kill me, because I cannot be controlled by him for the Vongola.”

“He is your father.” Lal pointed out.

“He is my sperm donor,” came the quick reply. “Given half a chance, I will kill him. He knows that.”

Lal fell silent, considering. “Tsuna only got as far as high school. You went all the way to university. Was this choice part of it?”

“One of us stays a civilian, the other enters that other world,” Ietsuna agreed. “We can swap easily.”

Amber eyes met ice-blue. “Maybe we swap sometimes. He spends an hour in solitude here, and the work of the Vongola Decimo still gets done.”

“I always know,” Skull sneered. “Your brother can't paint worth shit.”

“Does he even paint, Skull-san?”

“No. Not at all.”

“He really can't paint worth shit. Not even a Pollack.” A small chuckle. “I am sorry, Miss Lal Mirch. I know your orders. But I cannot die yet, not until Tsuna has completed his dream. So, forget.”

Fran appeared, clapping Mist-shrouded hands over Lal Mirch's temples. Slowly, the woman's eyelids fluttered to a close as the squeak of wheels resounded.

“Hurry up,” a green-haired man wheeled a trolley filled with wires and consoles towards them, as an older I-Pin rushed to press yellow-glowing hands to Lal's kneecap. “We just need her Flame readings for Project Alastor. And that's-”

The consoles beeped and flashed. To what result, Tsuna did not know, but the elation of the green-haired man only made it clear that something had happened.

“...the hypothesis of Flames works.” Verde announced. “The fabric of fate is there, and it can be unwoven...”

…

..

.

_...the contents of the Clam, however, may always change. Where the Rainbow's statelessness was its limit, and the Sea's boundlessness its weakness, the Clam's form gave it structure to advance, that given time, it will surpass all. It will endure, patiently waiting, until it has enough power..._

_Mare. Vongola. Arco._

_I swear, I will reach to all of you one day, and I will destroy you._

…

_.._

_._

Tsuna started as the view changed.

Ietsuna stood in front of an aquarium. Sunlight poured from wall-high windows, dimmed by the thickness and facets of the glass blocks sealed together with white clay. While this sight would not be too disturbing in and of itself, Tsuna had his doubts about glowing aquariums, especially since Ietsuna was tending to a clam the size of a football within. The clam looked like a giant black mouth, the lips of its mantle sooty and stark against the harsh lighting. It seemed like a dark, wavy grin that faced his tired brother, his brother who seemed to list against the glass.

“The Zooxanthellae cell is working, Verde-sensei,” said Ietsuna as a bespectacled green-haired man approached him from behind. “Autonomous Box Weapons will be possible. Please let me continue working on Project Alastor.”

“The Serie Mitologica would be far more useful,” sighed the man. “Look at the Mucalinda; at full power, it will block all attacks from even the sixth dimension! Even the Gambero prototypes are far more useful than a common _mollusc_! Look, Kœnig would fall all over himself just for the Mucalinda, you can't tell me Innocenti wouldn't. This is _big_ , Ietsuna.”

“In tactics. But in terms of grand strategies, it will not win. Logistics is the front where I admit the Millefiore is strong.” A rapping against the glass panel. “Sensei. In order to persuade Innocenti-san and Kœnig-san, we need to prove that our manufacturing capabilities are viable to persuade them to stay for our venture. We cannot afford to sell the plans for Box Weapons. It would doom everyone.”

“The Vongola dei Cieli is not useful.” Verde had said.

“Not yet. I am writing the operating systems for it.” Ietsuna had chuckled as windows and text flashed across the glass for Verde's perusal. “There are two separate segments I have planned. This, Verde-sensei, is the Hardware Emulation Lacuna Eclectic Nimbus Execution; HELENE. It will supervise the 3D printing and assemblage of the Box Weapons.”

A pause. “And this?”

“This is Helene's older sister, an artificial intelligence intended to supervise and guard the Vongola dei Cieli. Essential Line Mannered Orchestration; ELMO. They will be the ships that will take us beyond the horizon.”

“It's a... clam.” Verde delicately continued. “Project Alastor is a clam.”

“It's a clam that will make more clams on demand, each new clam having a different ability.” Ietsuna barely blinked. “Elmo alone will redefine the battlefield. Why don't you show him, my dear? Introduce yourself.”

The clam vibrated. Flame erupted, causing the water to boil midway through. Green sparks played against indigo mist, before a familiar face formed, coloured in orange and wreathed in cyan and carmine flame.

“Yes, Papa.” Elmo slowly hauled herself from the now-empty aquarium, sloshing water onto the ground in the nude. Not naked; one implied a lack of defences, and for all her all-too-human appearance, the man called Verde started to step away as Flames erupted around her. “Elmo is unit #000000. The first of many.”

“Verde-sensei, our blueprints thus far only have animals and weapons,” Ietsuna began explaining. “With that in mind, the AI capabilities we have at present are not sufficient for higher-grade weapons. Project Alastor was designed in conjunction with Project Etna to find the upper limits of Box Weapon computational processing power. By circling all seven Dying Will Flames through the Clam's mantle, Elmo's AI capabilities are much magnified to not only print Box Weapons for assembly on demand, in theory. She is also able to use the Night Flame much better than anything human would.”

Verde sucked a breath through parsed lips, looking at Elmo's blank features. “A solid projection by Dying Will Flames is wasteful. It is the most expensive Mist Box Weapon. Everything is still theoretical. It is my recommendation as your mentor that you cease delusions of becoming Pygmalion and shut down your Galatea. Project Alastor is useless.”

Ietsuna's back straightened as Verde walked away. Elmo did not react. A draw of breath sounded loud, with the bubbling of the tank as a background noise.

“Is Papa alright, asks Elmo?”

“Papa is... Papa is sad, Elmo.” Ietsuna confessed quietly. “I am sad that your capabilities cannot reach their full theoretical potential yet. I am sad that no one believes in you, save myself.”

“Helene tells Elmo that there is, so to speak, a layer missing in the narrative.” A pause. “She is sleeping.”

Knuckles rapped against the glass. “We'll meet soon. Elmo, cross-reference Pygmalion effect.”

“Searching. Wikipedia: the Pygmalion effect, or Rosenthal effect, is the phenomenon whereby higher expectations lead to an increase in performance. A corollary of the Pygmalion effect is the golem effect, in which low expectations lead to a decrease in performance; both effects are forms of self-fulfilling prophecy. By the Pygmalion effect, people internalize their positive labels, and those with positive labels succeed accordingly. The idea behind the Pygmalion effect is that increasing the leader's expectation of the follower's performance will result in better follower performance.”

“Very good.” Ietsuna nodded. “Label accordingly: Pygmalion effect algorithm, aimed to increase performance of the Vongola dei Cieli in accordance with user expectations.”

“Inputting source code, writing.” Elmo blinked slowly. “Physical indicators of satisfaction to be utilised?”

“Any indicators,” came the clarification. “Like nodding, for example. Update accordingly. No upper limit. I expect the two of you to become existences far beyond human, or Box Weapon. You will be the weapons that win wars and create miracles. Goddesses. Every single war henceforth will need either Elmo or Helene to win.”

“...Received, saved, and time-stamped. Under what file system shall I save this, Papa?”

“Alastor.” Ietsuna spat back. “One day, you sisters will have your revenge on the world that called you useless. Keep that in mind when you execute every mission I give you henceforth; to become my greatest creation.”

“Order acknowledged; algorithm fixed, beta-testing phase begin. Elmo will carry out all orders to conclusion.”

“And now, your competitors.” Ietsuna sighed. “Bring up the drafts for Project Aphrodite. We're going to put your sister through her paces.”

Diagrams and words flashed, branching out from the aquarium tank like light from a projector suspended in space. And abovehead, hanging like the blade of a guillotine, hung the words:

  __  
Project Aphrodite: Venus clams ( Veneridae)  
 

“Pull out the pearls.”

A rack, containing four multicoloured orbs of Dying Will Flames, rolled out. The first burned pure orange; the second was orange and gold, the third burned red with the Flame of Wrath, and the fourth crackled with electricity. Just like the Flames recovered from the plot of land where Tsuna's great-great-great-grandfather had been buried.

“Elmo,” came the softly spoken words, “recap on our progress on Box Weapon AI.”

“Project Olympian established that collected Dying Will Flames could be embedded into a battery and made as the central will behind a given Box Animal,” Elmo's voice echoed around the space. “Tests established this hypothesis of the 'ghost in the machine' with, chronologically, the Cervo del Fulmine, the Corvo di Tempesta, the Ape del Sole, and the technically complex Leone Nero di Cieli.”

“Giotto was a pain,” Ietsuna agreed.

“The next, Project Alastor, was the result of attempting to code such a being into a Box Weapon, therefore fine-tuning the precision of manipulating Dying Will Flames with the creation of the Vongola dei Cieli. Due to the high degree of freedom associated with the Vongola dei Cieli's potential, we further dissociated into the two main units: Unit #000000, and Unit #FFFFFF. At the same time, Nocturne Consulting & Associates was established in 2010 as Elmo was fine-tuned.”

“Project Etna developed in 2011 from Project Alastor, and Unit #FFFFFF was given charge of producing Box Weapons for sale.”

“Okay,” Ietsuna cracked his knuckles as he pulled out a pen in each hand. “Let's start.”

…

..

.

“Innocenti-san, this is unit #000000 of the Vongola dei Cieli, our test-case prototypes for Box Animals,” Ietsuna told a shaken scientist on the carpeted floor of a hotel suite. “Her power, as you noticed, is to move stuff from Point A to Point B. Which just saved your life. You're welcome. Sensei is looking for you. Any comments?”

“IthinkI'minlovewithyou.” The scientist kept staring at Elmo.

“I'm not, but thank you.” Ietsuna was nonplussed. “They were after you. Why?”

“I... well, they want me to design another Box Weapon, I guess. And yes, I realise that was ironic.” The artist behind the Sistema C.A.I. pouted, his short dark hair standing on end as he ran a hand through it.

“My suggestion was made with the safety of all three of you in mind, sir.” Ietsuna crouched. “If you wouldn't mind, sir, I will order some comestibles from the Ritz restaurant for you.”

“That sounds... we're in the _Ritz_. In London. _How_?”

“Point A to Point B, sir. As personal concierge to Verde-sensei, it is very convenient when he's running late.”

“I say. I'd do anything for that.”

Innocenti was then standing at the edge of a ledge, surrounded by an aurora of light so thick as to seem almost physical. “Enzo, my body may fail, but like this, I'll be with you forever.”

He threw himself over the ledge to a silent scream.

Afterwards, Tsuna choked as Innocenti's corpse was tossed into a vat, slowly churning until a yellow pearl, sparkling yellow, was enveloped in sticky flesh and glassy liquids, trapped like a fly in amber as the Dying Will Flame was sealed. The pearl was set in more whitish glassy liquid, at which lights shone down, somehow manipulating the liquid until, over time, it assembled into a clam before Tsuna's eyes.

The clam burst open, green and indigo forming another Elmo clone, this one dressed in yellow.

“#F8B500 activated. Hello, Maestro.”

“Hello,” Ietsuna said after a beat of silence. “Your name is Yamabuki now.”

The bottom of Tsuna's stomach dropped.

Murasaki and Yamabuki...

It got even worse as the scene changed, and Sawada Nana bled out to death in the middle of Namimori's busiest street. Kyoko lay, shuddering from a wound in her spine, and Haru... Haru was still crying, clutching onto Nana's corpse where she had thrown herself directly into the bullet meant for Nana. The shooter, more of the men in uniforms – some black, some white, all bearing the symbol of a flower somewhere on their bodies – moved to place the barrel of his gun against Haru's skull.

That was his last mistake.

Heads flew in all directions. Elmo dropped down from the skies, beautifully cruel and cold and terrible despite the heads that had been decapitated by black portals. Miura Haru choked as Elmo's arms rested around Nana and her.

“An... angel...?” Green flame sparked in Haru's eyes. “Please... Ietsuna-san... Tsuna-san is...”

“He's safe, Miura-san.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I'm glad... you're a good brother.”

“I'm not a very good person, though. I'm sorry.” Ietsuna's jaw set. “Elmo. Rush her to the Vongola dei Cieli. Keep her there as part of the Big Seven.”

Big Seven.

Tsuna staggered, despite this being a dream of a memory. The Big Seven... Ōtan. Murasaki. Ama. Midori. Shinku. Yamabuki. And the last, unknown one.

One of them was made from... from his friend.

W hat about... what about the others?

* * *

In the real world, that last sentence was punctuated by a beach exploding.

It was the smartest decision on the enemy's side, Reborn admitted to himself as he dived behind a large boulder with Colonello, Lal, Fon, and Fon's hanger-on. “There are mines there.”

“What?!” Colonello yelled back – the explosions must have temporarily deafened him.

“Land mines,” Lal huffed, listening intently. “HEAP, most likely. The thing is, this is a public beach, so they can't be indiscriminate.”

“The Cerastoderma series specialises in area denial, states #4F284B.” Reborn's shiny black eyes shot towards the speaker; the girl. The _autonomous Box Weapon_.

Reborn was going to kill Verde for this. “Cockles?”

“Silver bells and cockle shells, and little maids all in a row.”

Reborn blinked. “He based his area denial strategy on a nursery rhyme?”

She just plucked a string of pearls from her bracelet, lighting a purple Flame on her fingers without using a ring – understandable – before the pearls cracked open, and birds tumbled as they took off into the air and around the boulder. “Burn everything.”

Reborn poked his head out to watch the birds drop little balls of flame down. The balls imploded in a riot of blue, green, and violet; as Murasaki leapt over the boulder, it was clear that Storm flames dominated the mines. A pillar of the stuff reached up, boiling through the flock of birds.

“#78779B and #274A78 destroyed in action,” reported Murasaki without any inflection as she tossed up two more pearls, which morphed into gulls that burned blue like the waters of Capri. “Deploying #ABCED8 and #BCE2E8. Quench the Flames.”

A curtain of azure shimmered into being over the beach, right as Murasaki's head tilted. “Fon-sama, you have an international call from Honolulu. Would you like to reverse the charges?”

“What? Oh, fine-” Fon, still jarring to see in modern garb and fully adult, scrambled for his phone as more explosions tore at the azure, and Colonello recovered enough to lay down suppressive fire with Lal and Reborn. “Hello? Oh, Kyoya, how did you- one hundred metres above sea level? _Sharks_?! Well, I'm in Syracuse right now- yes, the Two Brothers Rocks are right there- Murasaki, get out of the call.”

Murasaki drew a gun and fired in the middle of tossing out more pearls that transformed into birds, conjuring a black portal in the middle of the beach. For a moment the birds squawked, and then three giant boulders riddled with spikes rolled through over the beach and its area-denial munitions. Four clam-shells leapt into the air, already burning with various shades of red and combinations with purple before a force of nature wielding tonfas charged through.

“Bite. You. All. To. Death.”

* * *

Watching the giant screens conjured on the porcellaneous walls of the Vongola dei Cieli, Yamabuki shook her head as Irie Shoichi gaped at the scenes. “Hibari Kyoya?!”

“#F8B500 to #A22041. Activating First Blackfish Squadron, please reply.” Yamabuki stated clearly, for the benefit of the human present; the actual contents of her commands to the fifth of the Big Seven had already been transmitted.

“#A22041 to #F8B500. Barnacles prepared. Do we need #FCC9B9?”

“#F8B500 to #A22041. Hold Sakura back. Firing in three, two, one...”

Yamabuki caught Shoichi before the scientist hit his skull on the console. Under her feet, the Vongola dei Cieli shuddered with the recoil from launching the Orca di Pioggia. “Blackfish Squadron sortied, ETA five, four, three, two, one...”

On the beach itself, four crunches signalled the breaking of four clam-shells in time with Hibari's snarled words. The last was an indication that something was even more wrong, as the beach shuddered underfoot, causing Lal to wobble as she tried to aim over Hibari's head.

A black dorsal fin broke the surface of the ocean. Lal blanched, throwing herself back as bombs of Flame descended from the flock of Murasaki's birds. “Orca!”

“Orca!!!” Colonello screamed, as the killer whale beached itself with a body extending towards ten tonnes. Hibari jumped back, giving a howl of apex predator challenging another apex predator.

That was right before the killer whale burst into Flame, barnacles dropping off its body to scatter and slap onto the beach as it gave a full-body shudder, melting back into the Mediterranean Sea. More explosions occurred – purple, inter-spotted with red sparks that hit the flock of seagulls, tearing through the curtain at impressive speeds with spots of yellow.

“That is slightly more... impressive,” Fon finally deigned to say. “Murasaki, where does the orca come from?”

“The First Blackfish Squadron serves as the primary surface contact between the Cerastordema area-denial team and the main body of the Vongola dei Cieli.” Murasaki supplied. “Though fully automated, segments of it are outfitted to serve as human transport in a pinch-”

“Wait.” Colonello raised up a hand. “Squadron? What are we dealing with? The main body?”

“The Vongola dei Cieli's power is to produce auxiliary units under its control,” Murasaki elaborated. “The Big Seven, such as myself, are outfitted with higher processing power capabilities that put us outside of its domination. Slaved units like the Cerastoderma and Pholadidae are not autonomous.”

“It's a veritable army,” Colonello frowned at the open ocean where a strip of beach riddled with organic-looking area-denial munitions stood between him and it. “The sea is a dangerous terrain for anyone, even for those with COMSUBIN training like Lal and me. We're going to need reinforcements.”

“Agreed,” Lal Mirch nodded, looking to Murasaki. “Much more reinforcement than Fon's nephew.”

Hibari had joined them behind the boulder, studying the beach. “It is strange. There is only one boulder.”

Murasaki's eyes slid to her right before they righted themselves, and she said: “In two minutes, #B7282E is going to cave in the entire beach. Also, the Corrubia-class patrol boat  _Angelini_ is approaching.”

“Corrubia-  _le Fiamme Gialle_ ,” Colonello deduced with a large grin. “Reborn, the tax service is coming for you.”

Despite the next explosion, Reborn's unimpressed look was visible as he stopped shooting towards the explosions on the beach. “That was only funny the first fifty times.”

“You gotta admit, that _pentito_ managed to survive,” Colonello continued, “except right in bed with the GICO.”

Reborn smacked him. “Shut up. Now we got a different issue to tackle. The Vindice just abandoned us here and left right before the explosions. That is suspicious behaviour, if nothing else.”

“They're trying to kill us?” Fon pondered.

“They are allied to Sawada Ietsuna,” Hibari spoke with absolute certainty.

“That is...” terrible, Lal Mirch wanted to say. Horrifying. The odds of getting to the bottom of this matter alive and free had plummeted into the abyss if that hypothesis was true. “How do you know?”

“The black Flames.” Hibari's eyes narrowed.

“Their Attribute.” Fon nodded. “They said so, Reborn. They detected the black Flames on Murasaki, and then they moved us here by some power... Murasaki, that Flame. Your Maestro said it had the Attribute of Inevitability?”

“Yes,” Murasaki demurely replied. “It is called the Flame of Night. Maestro has it. So does the Administrator. Aside from we of the Big Seven who hold the Black Cartridge, no other Box Weapon unit to my knowledge can use that Flame. Because black absorbs all colours, Maestro deemed that the Night Flame ended those Dying Wills. Because each portal concluded a journey from Point A to Point B, no matter the coordinates, they ended each journey to transport objects and living things. To use it, the Vindice mandate that the possessor must have a physical body for the reason of  **classified information**  .”

Murasaki stopped talking. Her eyes slid out, her face morphing into a facsimile of panic as the skies split, a figure falling from the sky down to earth, landing on her feet with an almighty thud.

“You should have stopped talking, #4F284B,” said the figure that wore black, a veritable clone of Murasaki. Or perhaps Murasaki was a clone of her; it was entirely possible. “Elmo will end you all, because this information is classified.”

“Elmo,” Fon pronounced as Hibari growled and entered the fray with a battle cry.

“Hibari Kyoya-sama!”

The tonfa strikes bounced off curves of black, appearing and disappearing with the blink of an eye. Elmo's smile only widened as a double-barrelled shotgun warped into her hands and she pulled the trigger twice.

Roll intervened, the twelve-gauge shells bursting against the spiky spheres around Hibari as he took the fight to close-quarters, nearly smacking Elmo's skull.

Elmo snorted, black fire racing along the barrel of her shotgun as she kicked out, thwacking him with the butt of her sawed-off shotgun and then taking aim in the cramped space, depressing the trigger. Hibari dodged the first thunderous shell racing straight at him, but the next roar came with the opening of a portal overhead and the pouring of a great flare of white flame that singed his hair and partially melted the flaming tonfa he used to defend himself.

“Dragon's breath.” Elmo explained, tossing her shotgun into the Mediterranean Sea, where it hissed as the waves claimed it with a burst of black. Another sawed-off shotgun appeared in her hands. “And we have Arcobaleno to burn.”

She paused. The Arcobaleno, and their animal partners, watched as the sawed-off shotgun was replaced with a large-bore M20 recoilless rocket launcher. One that was aimed and fired in their direction. A high-explosive, anti-tank round that weighed two kilograms destroyed the boulder, leaning Colonello and Lal to fire back on Elmo. Their bullets disappeared back into black nothingness, even as Hibari fell down to reveal the tiny Reborn, grimly wielding a Leon-M2 Browning machine gun.

“Chaos Shot!” The sphere of Sun Flame split into ten arrows of Flame, shooting towards Elmo.

Elmo blinked.

“Mantle.”

The arrows melted into black space.

“Projectiles don't work,” Hibari snarled under covering fire, this time from Fon throwing Storm Flame against Elmo, as he reached towards the girl with the arm not burning and smoking. The other arm tossed a melting tonfa in her direction, which winked out of existence even before Elmo started.

“It's really annoying,” Lal pulled up her Nuvola Gauntlet, firing six shots of Mist flame that met the same end as the Chaos Shot.

“I agree,” a soft voice spoke behind her, right as Elmo's fingers broke through the incorrectly-named Box Weapon and tore through Lal Mirch's left elbow with it. “Chaos Shot.”

“WHAT?!” Colonello howled as Reborn's attack fell out of a portal and hit him. Reborn fell back, Leon turning back into a CZ75 1ST in his hand, though Colonello gave a dying gasp as the misdirected Sun Flames numbed all his organs, making the Rain Arcobaleno seem dead under Falco's eagle-eye. At the same time, the sawed-off shotgun made a reappearance, to slam down on Lal's skull right as the elbow gave way.

“Exploding Gale-”

“Stop, Fon!” Reborn shouted, sliding another magazine in place of his normal bullets. “H- Her power is spatial manipulation. She can redirect our projectiles at us.”

“That is incorrect terminology,” Elmo calmly replied. “The mathematics behind Elmo's operation is understood to be a sub-section of Riemann manifolds.”

A force emerged from her body; Hibari was tossed like a rag-doll away, though he landed on his feet as a wave splashed down. “Elmo's choice of targets are not limited to you.”

Portals opened in a string across the skies, large barrels of what looked like naval cannons now pointing directly at the other side. Elmo's arm rose.

“Fire.”

* * *

…

..

.

Future him rested a fist onto a mahogany desk and set the entire surface on fire.

“Sorry. Our idiot father's been planning again.”

“He's the Chief CEDEF. When is he _not_ planning?” Ietsuna waved off. “He tried to have me incarcerated in Vendicare, remember?”

“Luckily, you _weren'_ _t_ involved with the Famiglia,” Tsuna nodded. “At least not then. This time, though, he might have tossed Byakuran and the Carcassa your way.”

“Ah, they're having a skirmish, so... I got it,” Ietsuna nodded. “I'll wiggle myself out.”

“The Millefiore are terrible enough without our internal affairs getting...” the older Tsuna chewed his bottom lip. “Kaa-san was right to divorce his lazy ass, but it just means that we're the ones getting his loving attention. Loving, ha! More like _usurping_.”

Tsuna's interest was pulled, especially as the older Ietsuna idly put out the fire with his jacket. “He's pulling a coup? Are we talking about the same person? While we're facing Byakuran seizing our properties?”

“Iemitsu's planning with... Nono,” Tsuna studied the ceiling. “Last week, they sent Chrome into West Africa. Three days ago, Kyoya-san was sent to Mexico, _against_ my orders, and started a shoot-out with the Juárez. The old guard are too old for  _la malavita_ , but they're still pining for the glory days and pulling my people with it. I need them out before they decide to illustrate the dangers of the underworld with my Guardians. How much do _vaccines_ cost?! The bloody Millefiore have better healthcare than us, and our father can't even understand that!”

“You need to clean house,” Ietsuna stated, eerily calm despite the declaration of patricide he had just made. “Can't do it in-house, I assume.”

“I need their hands tied, not dead,” the older Tsuna corrected. “Or else I'm going to worry for everyone until they age to death, or Byakuran finally declares war.”

Ietsuna's half-smile became more sinister as he pulled out a file from his desk, labelled  _La Trattoria Oscurità_. “I'll figure something out.”

…

..

.

Water dripped from loose nuts, spilled into a puddle that formed between  two men. One was Ietsuna; the other was the white-haired man. Byakuran, Tsuna recalled. The Millefiore Boss that killed... him.

Byakuran was not smiling here. In fact, the depth of his glare towards Tsuna's twin could have combusted steel.

“You're cheating in our game, Nao-kun,” said the Boss, using Ietsuna's old nickname, why was he using it? “Pulling the war early, sabotaging me... you know an investigation would reveal your involvement. You killed the Ninth Generation and your own father to pin me, and start a Mafia war.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Ietsuna. “I was in Japan. _La Trattoria Oscurità_  is mine as much as it is yours.”

“Sure, let's go with that.” Byakuran shrugged. “Getting involved like this, though... who are you planning to usurp? This is a game that is played to rule the world. The Tri-Ni-Sette is a game played by the Skies; the Sky Arcobaleno, Yuni; the Mare Sky, myself, and the Vongola Sky... your very own twin brother. Only us three. You should have been... removed, to make sure he was unchallenged.” A tilt of his head, followed by a sinister narrowing of violet eyes. “He would have been a better player, I believe. Are you planning to usurp... me?”

“No.”

“Your brother then!” Byakuran huffed. “Ensure he dies, and win the war in his memory. Then your position as Unidisemo is secure. Trite, but safe.”

“No.”

Byakuran deigned to look at Ietsuna at this flat pronouncement. “You cannot be looking to replace the Sky Arcobaleno. Surely not. You know the curse.”

“ _No_.” The last pronouncement was patient. “ _Fiat justitia ruat caelum_. I will _end_ the Tri-Ni-Sette, and you with it, because you have pulled my brother into war with you. _Buena sera_ , Byakuran. It'll be your last peaceful night...”

…

..

.

“Project Parcae is a money-sucker,” An older Kurokawa Hana tossed a heavy ledge onto a long workshop table across Ietsuna. “Lorenzo! Murasaki and Yamabuki are great, but you actually need to prove viability-”

A green clam was tossed onto the table. Hana stopped talking. “...what happened?”

A deep, shuddering breath. “Sawada Nana, Sasagawa Kyoko and Miura Haru were targeted as associates of the Vongola by the Millefiore. Yamabuki got to Kyoko on time to stopGinger Bread... but Miura Haru died trying to cover Kyoko's escape. Sawada Nana died by a whip strike by Iris Hepburn across Namimori in a coordinated attack. Hepburn herself was killed by Murasaki's limp duplication.”

A deep breath. “Miura, in her dying moments, proved compatible with Flame colour #3EB370.”

“Oh. Oh no. How's Kyoko?”

“Coma. Namimori General.” Ietsuna's forehead met the table in a thump. “The Black Sky Lion, the Sun Bee, the Storm Crow, and the Lightning Deer were viable. The personality loss when the Pearl is converted into the shell is... may be deployed against the Millefiore to boost our forces. Miura Haru has survived to defend Lambo... in a sense.”

Hana stared at the clam. “Ordinarily, I'd be sick. But they hurt Kyoko. You hurt them right where it hurts, and we're square.”

“Gladly. I need you to call Lancia.”

“I'll do that.”

Clean-up done, Tsuna then watched his twin, seemingly older than his future self, break the sad news that the older Tsuna accepted with a façade of cold stone.

“When we find Byakuran,” said the older Tsuna, “For Kaa-san, for Kyoko, and for Haru... I want to hurt him.”

…

..

.

“Never. Speak. Again.”

Blood and a lump of muscle slid to the ground.

“Shh,” the Vongola Decimo forced his thumb into a drooling mouth. “It's bleeding.”

Violet irises dilated. Byakuran struggled though the flat of the knife tapping against his cheek dissuaded him. Flame erupted, and Byakuran made an inarticulate noise. The blood flow stopped from his mouth, right next to a purpling bruise that bore the impression of a gloved fist, much like Tsuna's own X Gloves. Apparently his future self had managed to land a hard fist on the Millefiore Boss before being weakened.

The knife crashed down. A right forearm joined the bloody lump on the floor. Animalistic howls continued. In the midst of their struggle, part of the house crashed down, burning. A crack, and the right arm joined its counterpart before the disguised twin of the Vongola Decimo slammed the Millefiore Boss' head on the marble floor, knocking him out. Reaching for the right arm, the Vongola Decimo plucked a ring off of the middle finger.

An orange cabochon set with wings of silver, the jewel quickly dulled to matte black before it crumbled. Idly, the Vongola Decimo let go of the ring and crushed it underfoot, before he grabbed Byakuran. “You're coming with me.”

From the ruins of the Arancia Manor, Byakuran was ignobly tossed out, the vengeful bearing of the Vongola Decimo running after him. Ietsuna only stopped when he spotted the one standing by the fallen Byakuran.

“I ordered Elmo back,” said the older Sawada Tsunayoshi.

“Tsuna...” Ietsuna, no longer acting as the Boss of the Vongola, lowered his knife, rushing to the figure in Elmo's arms. “Elmo, what are you doing? Medical aid... Yamabuki, Karekusa, a Sun unit-”

“I never cared about much,” the older Tsuna began to talk, interrupting the other. “Yet I have been Vongola Decimo half my life. My only regret is that I could not keep my family together. Elmo has her orders, not to call for help.”

Around them were the shouts of fire, some attempts at fire-fighting, more chaos as Millefiore soldiers, unaware of the fall of their Boss, took on the Vongola men, who seemed to be holding their ground.

“No, Tsuna, I chose to leave-”

“Because our father tried to have you killed,” Tsuna shook his head, one hand reaching out towards the older Ietsuna. “It took a while for me to get it, but I know what you are.”

Ietsuna's spine stiffened. “W- Huh?”

“I saw Grandpa's memories. In his flames. The crypt.” The older Tsuna's eyes were wet. “You are the best person I ever knew, you know.”

Tsuna swallowed. He knew the memories, having already seen them. Having seen one Flame pass from one twin to the other, saving the baby who received the Flame in the middle of choking black. It damned the twin who had granted the Flame with his breath.

Orange had been flooded with black.

Mouth thinning in an effort, the other nodded quickly. “Alright. Yes. They finally have me. I'll give them hell. I'll protect them, Tsuna, just live, will you?!”

The young Sawada Tsunayoshi swallowed. “No, it's wrong. I should have died a long time ago. For me, for this me, fifteen... twenty-five years ago... both of us were choking, and one baby gave the other his Flame, dying so that one of us may live. I didn't want to believe that, so... I never stopped believing that he was alive, and Ie just... stayed like that. As long as you were alive, and happy... I didn't care.”

“Ie... I'm sorry,” his future self continued to say. “You were right, but I wanted to keep you safe more than I wanted you in my Famiglia. You deserve to be in the Family, no matter what Dad or Timoteo-jiisan decided. No matter what anyone said.”

“I can't keep anyone safe,” Ietsuna shook his head, lost and afraid. “I can't keep Lambo or I-Pin safe. Fuuta had to stay with you. The world's strongest hitman regularly take jabs at my life. And you... I couldn't keep you safe. Now you want to entrust your friends, your Family, to _me_? They hate me!”

“I understand... if you don't want to.” Future Tsuna closed his eyes, orange Flames sparking in his gloved hands to wrap around Ietsuna. “Then, quietly... without anyone noticing... go far, far away... towards the horizons you dreamed for. The hard shell of the Vongola... the depths of the sea... or the heights of the rainbow... nothing holds you back anymore. But... you're the only person I can ask... to take care of everyone. The person I trust the most, who stayed with me openly and in secret, who played my part as Boss to the hilt... the only one who can destroy the Vongola, and save everyone from the hard shell prison that they stayed in with me. In the end... you're still my brother.”

A tear fell from his eye as the amber lost its lustre. Gold faded to yellow, and Elmo calmly moved her hand to lay a finger on his pulse.

“Time of death, twenty-three hundred forty-five.” Elmo blinked. “Vongola staff approaching. Elmo must leave, Papa.”

A tear cracked, freezing its tracks down the cheeks of the last of the Sawada family as Ietsuna rushed to grab the body that fell as Elmo disappeared. Cradling him close, the adult Sawada Ietsuna looked like his brother; the icy aura of competence and ruthlessness having given way to show that the darkness behind the sky hurt no less than any actual Sky. A light rain fell from the heavens with a clap of thunder;

“I promise... I promise that I'll protect everyone,” said the lost and broken man as more men in suits – Vongola men – appeared, shouting as they ran towards the brothers. “It's the last thing that I can do for you.”


	47. Folio : Millefiori

 

As powerful as Midori was, Spanner noted that her stores of Flame was clearly flagging. Running away, and even evasion was taxing her resources, even with whatever extra sources of power she had on hand in her real body attached to his ears. The last Taurids strike she had fired at the Vongola contingent chasing them had veered off-course, and crashed another building, while the bullets flying from the Vongola pursuers were striking far too close for comfort.

Now, there was an additional contender, involving bats and stoats with red Flames. As good as Midori was at defence, Spanner noted that, with her being on short commons, they were going to die.

“Oh, it's my loser brother of a king,” Belphegor mocked as Rasiel descended from the skies on a throne that kept aloft with Storm Flames on its legs. “What, you left that dreary castle you holed up in to lick your wounds already?”

“Castle burned down,” Rasiel stuck out his left thumb, pointed down, towards Midori direction. “No thanks to that bitch.”

Hiding behind Midori and already trembling as the Vongola contingent was already within view, Spanner swallowed. “Midori, did you destroy his castle?”

“That was Onee-sama, calmly assessed #3EB370. “Orders from the Administrator. #4F284B... did it to get full access to her daemon units and prepare her defection to protect Ōtan. She would have been wiped and restarted otherwise.”

“She'll be in one piece at least! Unlike us!” Spanner pointed at the murder twins growling at each other, Squalo yelling at them, and Lussuria and Levi adding oil to the fire.

“#3EB370 has sent a message,” Midori announced. A heartbeat later, a portal opened to Spanner's left.

The duo dived through it quickly as it began to close. Midori was the last to get out as it fully closed in space, rolling and landing on her feet with hands outstretched. A net of green static bursts formed, creating a solid shield that deflected away the battery of seventy-pound five-inch artillery shells that had fired on Elmo's command.

“Conventional weapons will not stand up to the unit with the strongest defensive power, factually comments #3EB370.” The shells slid into the sand, visibly bent and dented from impacting the shield. Birds flew over it, casting a curtain of cyan Flame over the net shield of green static.

A bunch of indigo and purple Flame shot like an arrow towards Elmo. Within a split second, the distinct silhouette of a rotary autocannon appeared through thin air and fired. Bits of scale armour and circuitry with legs attached flew apart, but a lot more of a giant centipede set aflame with violet hovered over Lal Mirch, spinning lazily to deflect more artillery shells.

Murasaki stared, and then turned to Lal Mirch. “Did you upgrade it?”

“Huh?” Lal Mirch blinked. “No, not since the War...”

“You'll lose it, then,” Murasaki concluded matter-of-fact as Elmo started to speak.

“Box Weapon design cross-reference: Lorenzini set #066, Scolopendra di Nuvola.” Elmo analysed aloud, interrupting the exchange of words between human and Box Weapon. “Make and model registered as Zamza Mark II – placed under ownership of Lal Mirch. Attribute: Cloud, may be adapted for the following: Mist, Rain, Storm. Current statistics: power C, intelligence D, speed B, stamina C. Abilities: size changing, Flame expelling, Flame draining. Remarks: although not considered powerful, it is regarded as a Box Weapon for advanced users due its capacities to adapt to various types of combat.”

The autocannon disappeared back into its portal, and the portal closed as Elmo blinked. “RELEASE://program_BlueFairy@point/ZamzaMk2.”

The Cloud Centipede twitched, hovering in the sky before its Flames abruptly cancelled out and it dropped to the sand.

“She can hack Box Weapons?!” Colonello pointed. “Damn, I'm glad not to have any...”

Elmo snapped her fingers. The five-inch naval artillery barrels exited back through their portals, which then closed. Another motion of her hand, and more portals appeared, this time overhead.

The flock of birds chirruped, trying to stay the meteor shower that easily burned through them, headed towards the Arcobaleno and one Vongola Guardian. One Arcobaleno stood up and pointed with his right index and middle fingers. A red dragon, composed of Flame, snaked up, coiling around three spiky balls of Cloud Flame as it tugged up through the heavens from behind the shield.

Elmo's hand twitched. The Storm Flame dragon was disintegrating every single meteor, releasing grey gas into the air as a result.

“Fuel-air explosive!” Lal Mirch shouted. “Fon, stop!”

Fuel-air bombs: a special combustible substance had been packed in a metal case and, on deployment, chemically made to expand, turned into an aerosol, and scattered over an effective range of several hundred meters before ignition, covering a broad area in flames and explosive pressure as the end result. It was classified as a normal weapon that did not use nuclear technology, but that was cold comfort against the longest sustained blast wave and most destructive force of any known explosive invented so far. The Disintegration factor of Storm flames would only help entropy to spread the aerosol explosive further, maximising the area of the explosion that was to come.

The Chinese man pulled back, chagrined. Reborn and Colonello immediately put the safeties back on their weapons, however ineffectual the gesture.

“The Administrator's Mantle will absorb those impacts against her, so we will be dealing with two waves of fuel-air explosions. We can block the pressure and the heat, but not the oxygen deprivation or the Administrator's follow-up attack,” Midori announced for the people not connected to her mentally. “Escape is the best option.”

Reborn stood. “Murasaki, get us to the Vongola.”

“No.”

“She can't take your orders, Reborn.” Fon intervened as Leon transformed into a giant rocket launcher when faced with Murasaki's automatic refusal. “It's Ietsuna's idiosyncrasy.”

“It's damned inconvenient! Reborn, shut up!” Colonello hollered as the grey cloud slowly descended down. All Flames on their side had died; Elmo was standing, waiting until the fuel cloud completely surrounded them, a suspicious-looking canister waiting in her hand.

Murasaki drew her Beretta and swiftly shot another portal. The portal expanded, and all of them dived through it, stunning Xanxus in the sitting room of the Iron Fort of Vongola.

The portal closed, just as a flood of light, heat, and noise filled that small world on the beach. Even if a mushroom cloud had been produced, it was swallowed up in billowing explosions of smoke and flames as far as the beach spread.

A black portal was revealed as the smoke started to fade. It rotated slowly, ponderously sucking back all the destruction.

Skull rode up to the beach, already dreading the end result. His dread was not out of any sense of loyalty, but more out of the fact that no matter who won, the destruction still terrified him. Sure enough, the propellants and burning fuel stunk as the sea breeze blew the stench inland, and he stopped once he edged away from a concrete path towards the sandy zone.

“Skull-sama.” Elmo was there, not visibly disturbed.

None of their enemies were around.

The result seemed obvious.

“Elmo is very sorry, but Skull-sama will have to proceed alone from here,” Elmo tonelessly replied. “The four Arcobaleno and Hibari Kyoya-sama have escaped.”

“...then what are your orders?” Skull whispered.

“Elmo has been ordered to safeguard the Vongola dei Cieli. Elmo will begin by killing the assembled strike force that already knows of our existence.” A black hole appeared next to Elmo. “Please.”

Skull contemplated that single word, and its layers of meaning. Nocturne had an agreement with Mammon; as long as there was no conflict, Mammon simply remained out of their way, and she could be cured. She switched between adult and baby form as a matter of convenience – and to save money.

If Mammon had swiped them away, that meant that Xanxus... that Xanxus might have figured out the situation.

Xanxus, the one who had fought Sawada Tsunayoshi for the Decimo position.

Xanxus, who carried Nono's will with him.

A lot of Nocturne's plans had featured a lot of working around Xanxus and the strange charismatic power he founded. Ietsuna had to destroy Vongola as his brother, because otherwise Xanxus would resurrect the name and run it as a Mafia Famiglia.

He looked at Elmo, the contradictory being who held more power than anything human could ever achieve, and yet still served on its own accord. The most powerful Box Weapon on record, who had reached a point of sentience where it would be fair to class her as a fully sentient being who understood the consequences of her actions and still did them. Elmo would obey, if he ordered her to send him to Mammon. Then, she would go slaughter anything between her and Xanxus to kill the Varia Boss, even if it was Mammon, or Skull.

“What will happen to Mammon then?”

“Elmo will not touch Mammon-sama.”

“Are you interpreting that broadly or literally?”

“Broadly, replies Elmo.”

Skull nodded, but then blurted the question that had been on his mind since he first met this being. “Why do you fight, Elmo?”

“Battle is what Elmo was born for, replies Elmo.”

He nodded, and entered the portal, passing immediately through three-dimensional space to black space and back to three-dimensional space. Elmo's amber eyes scanned the beach, and she leant down to pick up five multicoloured clamshells, burying them at five different points.

“Command: Reset.”

Five clicks echoed simultaneously.

Back at the Iron Fort, the Vongola Decimo contemplated the various treaties of the Vongola Famiglia signed during his tenure. He was writing out a contract, one that would finish off the Vongola Famiglia at last, when the door flew open, a boot imprint still apparent.

“Trash,” snarled Xanxus, the guilty foot still raised. “You got visitors dropping in from outer space now. They had an interesting piece of news.”

Elmo, controlling the daemon unit disguised as the Vongola Decimo, drew the sawed-off  _lupara_ hidden under the mahogany desk. “So do I, replies Elmo. This is war.”

* * *

Tsuna awoke to cold sweat, and two people. Ōtan stood there with a blank expression, a statuesque sentinel facing the bespectacled red-haired man in the plain lab coat.

“Water?”

Tsuna's parched throat answered the question, and he drank the whole glass of water proffered, holding up the empty glass for more. Ōtan refilled the glass with a pitcher, and he drank some more before his eyes focused. “You're... Irie Shoichi.”

“Yeah, we technically met ten years before, long story,” Shoichi's lips thinned. “I apologise.”

“Fran...” Tsuna motioned at his temple. “Did something. I...”

“Ah, the Rete Vongole units have a method of downloading information directly into their hard drives. I guess Fran borrowed some techniques...” Shoichi trailed off, swallowing his words. “I- I'm sorry about Yamabuki.”

Tsuna swallowed. “Innocenti, you mean.”

Shoichi's freckles lost all colour. “...I meant Yamabuki. Unit #F8B500.”

“ _All of them were human!_ ” Tsuna spat back, climbing out of the freshly made bed they had put him in. He stood there in his socks, and yet neither Ōtan nor Shoichi made any movement. “Fran downloaded it into my head. Project Olympian, Alastor, and Aphrodite. To win- no, to _avenge_ , my brother fed the whole Millefiore Famiglia to his pet _clam_. Their bodies distilled, their souls trapped in porcelain pearls and inserted into a Box Animal of choice to move it like a puppet! He just... he just... _he killed them all and_ _slaved them into machines_ _._ ”

Tsuna sank back onto the bed. The glass fell from his hand and thudded onto tiled floor. Ōtan knelt, immediately scooping up the glass into her hands with precise, calculated movements. Somehow, Tsuna found himself fascinated by her. Nothing indicated what she had been; what she could have been, if his twin had not cruelly shredded her life for... for a _battery_.

“How could I let him do such a thing?” Tsuna numbly lamented. “How did my future self let him do such a thing?!”

Shoichi nodded faintly. “You didn't. Know, I mean. I... I'll explain, if you like.”

Still with a blank expression, Tsuna nodded.

“I went to the same university as your brother,” Shoichi started, his eyes darting anxiously around the room. “He was in the Fine Arts faculty, and I was in computing with Byakuran... anyway. Byakuran introduced me to Verde-sensei, the Lightning Arcobaleno, and your... twin... was his student then. As Reborn's student, you might know what an Arcobaleno is.”

“Another talking baby hitman.” Tsuna agreed, still weary.

“Not exactly. Verde-sensei is the scientist of the Arcobaleno. Byakuran and I were more focused on the development of portable weapons, or Box Weapons, with Verde-sensei,” Shoichi continued to tell his story. “Lorenzo – I mean, Sawada Ietsuna – focused more on the substance of Dying Will Flames. His main gripe was, what was the significance of colour in the Flames? There were other concepts, but I can see that I'm losing you.”

Tsuna could feel his jaw loosen and fall. Dying Will Flames, the force that Reborn shot his bullets with, that _Xanxus_ shot bullets with, that caused his twin to jump about and do maniac feats in berserker desperation to not die with regrets, and his focus on why was it such a colour? “The _colour_.”

“That was my reaction too,” Shoichi admitted. “It made sense when he explained it, though. See, humans perceive colour based on light reflecting off things, to allow us to see those things. Most objects do not absorb all of the light that hits them – thus, we can see them, because the light enters your eyeball and hits the retina, which goes through a long biological process to translate your vision from two-dimensional images into three dimensions. Colour comes from light of only certain wavelengths reflecting off an object into your eyes. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes.” Tsuna's tone indicated that he was nearing the end of his patience.

“So, assuming that Dying Will Flames at their core are all the same expression of human expression turned into a form of energy,” Shoichi's face twisted as he spoke, as if disbelieving the words that poured from his mouth, “why do they differ from person to person? If it was a family thing, that's all great, but why do the same family members have different shades of the same colour Flame? Why do some people get mixes of colour?”

He sighed. “On hindsight, I realise that he was trying to figure out why was his Flame black, when you and Sawada Iemitsu, even the Vongola Ninth and Xanxus, had orange Flames. If you argue that impure Flame colour is not actually an important factor in Flame purity or power, that challenges the common assumption that purity is anything other than a curiosity. That is, in its own way, a challenge to the Vongola succession criteria that only those with orange Flames can be Boss candidates. At the time, though, he brought forth one hypothesis that made the basis for the creation of the Vongola dei Cieli. Simply, your brother postulated that _all Dying Will Flames_ _we_ _re equal at_ _birth_ _, and_ _Flame_ _Attribute is merely a differentiation at the_ _microscopic_ _level_ _over the course of an individual's destiny_ _that creates macroscopic effects_.”

Now, Tsuna understood Shoichi's discomfort; what he was saying was straying very close to the realm of fantasy. “Like... someone choosing for themselves what they want to do?”

“At birth, an individual's Flame could probably be classed as pure white, he said, since there is nothing to regret.” Shoichi nodded. “As they age and live, the Dying Will Flame shifts colour, but until someone has regrets and manifests their Flames, there is no fixed Flame colour. It's like Schroedinger's cat... wait, let me try to explain-”

“Like Espers,” Tsuna cut in. “If I know my brother, he's still collecting Kamachi-sensei's books. For reference, we're up to Volume 7 right now. What you've been saying so far, is that Ie hypothesised that we're all a certain type of Esper formed without science who needs things like rings and pills to use those powers.”

“...I hate Hyper Intuition,” Shoichi muttered to himself, before speaking: “What I meant was, his hypothesis claimed that life's subjective experiences _coloured_ the Dying Will Flames.”

“Like... a lens?”

“Yes. Anything that is not one of the seven colours of the rainbow is the human brain's way of interpreting a mixture of different wavelengths of light, hence colours like pink, white and brown are technically mixes of different wavelengths of light that doesn't fall neatly into the seven known categories. The Tri-Ni-Sette – the Mare rings, the Vongola rings, the Arcobaleno Pacifiers – is the collective system put in place by precursors of humanity, meant to exploit that colouring of Dying Will Flames. Under this system, there would always be twenty-one people elevated to control it, but no individual can play god in this system imposed by the Tri-Ni-Sette without a balance.”

Shoichi stopped to let out a full-blown sigh. “And now I've gone straight to science fiction, but believe me, we found proof, of both the existence of precursors, and of the system's... form, to give it a word.”

“I...” Tsuna recalled Giotto's words in that dream. “I don't know what's the Tri-Ni-Sette, other than it contains great power. It is three sets of seven things each... how did I know that?”

“That must be the data download,” Shoichi frowned at him.

“And, all of this sounds good and impressive and just like Ie, but it doesn't answer how Ie ended up... killing people and channelling their Flames into robots,” Tsuna turned to Ōtan with a frown. “You haven't said anything, Ōtan.”

“#FF4E20 was born at the end of the Vongola-Millefiore War, responds #FF4E20.” was the response she gave. “Irie-sama would supply more information than #FF4E20 can access at the moment. Also, #FF4E20 was created to facilitate the missions of Vongola X Sawada Tsunayoshi, which in this case is yourself. Though #Ff4E20 was never officially deployed for Boss, #FF4E20 finds it prudent to record all information at the moment without interruption to fully compute data flow and strategise the moment Boss decides on a final goal. Therefore, #FF4E20 was focusing on the details as explained by Irie-sama. The reasons for such details are irrelevant until the mission requires them.”

“You're... not curious at all?” Tsuna volunteered timidly.

“You are plenty curious enough for us, Boss.” Ōtan then turned to Shoichi. “And, Irie-sama, #FF4E20 must express the lack of necessity for all details of the Maestro's work. The only relevant thing that Boss really needs to note is that Maestro found out a nature of Dying Will Flames, including how to change Flames from one Attribute to another while maintaining a system without contradictions. The role of the Tri-Ni-Sette, while important to the functioning of the world, is not as important as the emotional factors that drove the Maestro to such moral depravity to Boss.”

Shoichi wilted, but toned down his explanation accordingly, if his next words were an indication: “Lorenzo compared the system to the Fates in Greco-Roman mythology. Nona, the spinner, the source of the will to live. Decima, the measurer, the disposer of lots. Morta, the cutter. The one who takes in all the colours of the Flames, and in the process absorbs them, because black is the colour that absorbs all light.”

Tsuna watched, as a tear came to the scientist's eye and he shook his head, taking off his glasses to wipe the lenses on his lapel.

“Ietsuna realised that there was a way to transmute a Flame's original colour, in a sense. The result could control Dying Will Flames more efficiently in Box Weapons, and even separate Flames forcibly from a body. He built the world's first Dying Will computer, inventing the operating system for Box Weapons in the process. The only thing he really failed to do...” Shoichi swallowed. “He told me that he wanted to turn his own Flame orange, once.”

_Black to orange. Night to day. That might be nice, eh?_

The colour of their whole family, Tsuna gave a short keen as he realised it. “The colour... of our family... he wanted to be like me? Like us?”

“I believe he thought changing his Flames would curb some of the... animosity... shown to him by Sawada Iemitsu, and allow your shattered family a chance at getting back together,” Shoichi nodded. “It's only guesswork, and he'll never admit it, but... the two of you had left Japan for Europe, your parents were divorcing, and you- the future Sawada Tsunayoshi, I mean, were in Sicily learning the ropes when he was studying the French Renaissance in Grenoble and still avoiding the random bounty on his head.”

A grip seized Tsuna's heart, and he bent forward as his legs came up, curling into a ball as his nails dug into his calves. “You're... telling the truth. He wanted... he wanted to forgive Dad for me. To keep whatever remained of our family bonded.”

“I had no idea at the start, neither of what heights he had climbed, nor what depths he had fallen until the Melone Base was destroyed and I defected in secret.” Shoichi continued. “Then I found out: that Lorenzo managed to tear out people's souls and trap them in the gears of a Box Weapon... that he managed to turn them into obedient slaves with minimal thought of rebellion. Project Olympian was the start, using four Dying Will Flames retrieved from the crypts of the Vongola Bosses – Sawada Yoshimune, Sawada Yoshinobu, the late Sawada Ietsuna, your grandfather, and Sawada Ieyasu – Vongola Primo.”

Shoichi shuddered. “I'll... talk more about them later.”

Tsuna nodded. As curious he might have been, Shoichi's disgust still seemed apparent.

“Project Alastor was made to code such an entity into being: a constant, if artificial companion, and to affirm his mastery of Box Weaponry,” the scientist explained further. “It was the first version of a new Box Weapon, one adapted from the original design by him, original enough to be new. He made it as his personal palette, and it became his personal atelier of Box Weaponry, able to aim go anywhere and kill anything; able to reproduce daughter units that assembled into a cohesive network to protect the mother. Rete Vongole – Clam Network.”

“From that was born Project Aphrodite; his revenge against Byakuran, who started the war and targeted your future self two years ago. The basic idea was to take the Vongola's fallen allies, its most faithful old guard, and give them a new lease of life with abilities beyond human.” Shoichi donned his glasses back, fidgeting. “The Melone base was destroyed by its first fruit: Unit #4F284B, Murasaki. Her power... her power uses the Cloud Flames' Attribute of Propagation to mutate herself, essentially quantum-teleporting copies of herself, with a few tweaks to the source code if necessary due to the no-cloning theorem. It is the idea of 'survival of the fittest' made real. This detail is important,” Shoichi interrupted as Ōtan opened her mouth, “because of... who is inside.”

Tsuna froze. “The original person? Someone who... who survived hostile environments to... reproduce?”

Shoichi nodded grimly. “Alouette Lei. Lorenzo transformed his own teacher into the first of the Veneridae Big Seven.”

* * *

Minutes earlier, Murasaki's simple statement of “Elmo's here” had thrown the six Arcobaleno in the Vongola HQ – Yuni, Reborn, Colonello, Fon, Lal and Mammon – with the Varia Boss into battle mode. Of course, when Xanxus went to get the Decimo, he took two barrels of buckshot to the face before the Decimo smiled and pulled a Thompson machine gun out of thin air to fire at them. Abandoning the trappings of the Vongola Boss, there stood Asari Amaya now, sweetly smiling as she gunned through every other soldier in the mansion and slaughtered the Vongola's men before disappearing.

A creak resounded as they regrouped in the great hall. Fon's head turned, his snow-monkey companion hooting before a tattoo of bullets ripped through it. His mouth opened as a hole in space gaped, revealing the muzzle of a cannon pointed directly at them. He could catch bullets, but in this case it was a good thirty kilograms, and not even the world's best martial artist could catch something of that mass moving at over double the speed of sound.

Midori was a vision in indigo and green arcs of lightning as she threw herself in the way of the artillery shell. The shell deflected off of her, into the far wall of the Iron Fort, breaking through the wall; and plummeting down...

“T- That's not right,” Reborn revealed, grimacing at the sight of a pool of black below them, surrounded by flat land. “H- How?”

Gravity caught up, slamming everyone into the ceiling of the great hall and skewering one unfortunate on the iron chandelier.

“Elmo's power is moving things from Point A to Point B within the scope with portals,” Murasaki pointed up – or down, strictly speaking, towards the direction of the Earth from her position hanging on a roof beam. “They still remain connected until the portal collapses.”

Standing in the air below them, Elmo's head tilted up, the better for him to see those soulless amber eyes. “Elmo's scope is this astronomical unit, with the Earth's core as my point of origin computed in the TYPHON system.”

Xanxus slammed into the room they were in, bodily turning in mid-air even as the motion was useless as he slammed into a recessed wall. His lips parted in a snarl as he dug himself out, dark eyes aflame as he watched Elmo.

“Now, the Iron Fort is still fixed to its foundations,” Elmo spoke, her voice oddly clear, “but you know what happens when all the main pillars of a building is cut, right~?”

Reborn pulled his gun. Colonello hoisted his rifle.

Elmo snapped her fingers. The portals closed, cutting through dimensions to slice through concrete and steel at the molecular level. The Iron Fort, now in the air, was slowly falling, pulled by the Earth's own gravitational field from suspended rest towards the ground.

“Ah,” was Murasaki's response, cradling her Beretta as she tackled both Fon and Hibari mid-air, Cloud Flames billowing out from the pearl choker around her neck as the sky literally fell on them. “Everyone, please hold onto me. Coordinates fixed.”

* * *

Lambo remained silent, despite being seated next to Gokudera swearing as their car tore up asphalt through the streets of Palermo back towards the Vongola main headquarters. “Teleportation, Sawada Ietsuna, and robot clone maids in clams. This is ridiculous!”

Riding shotgun, Lambo drawled, “You're going to throw us off a gorge, Gokudera.”

“Shut up, idiot cow. And how could you lose in a Lightning battle against that girl!” Gokudera snapped at him. “Her Flame manipulation beats you by a hundred miles!”

“Shut up,” Lambo groused. “I'm a Lightning, but my speciality is attacking despite my Attribute.”

“Well, she's way better at it than you,” Gokudera retorted. “I guess that teacher of yours was still pretty crappy.”

“He's our Boss' brother,” Lambo sniped back. “Ie-nii taught me how to use Flames flexibly- _Madre de Dios_.”

Lambo swore as the front gates came to view, the wrought iron having been burnt and torn off its hinges to lie down the road, catching into the front grilles of their car and causing Gokudera to swerve dangerously. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, both Guardians were already running out, and behind them was the yell of one extreme boxer scaling the side walls. With rings and boxes at hand, the three Guardians ran up the olive-lined drive towards-

“The Iron Fort... Tenth! Tenth!” Gokudera yelled as completely shorn, flat foundations stood where the magnificent old-world manor of the Iron Fort had been. He fell to his knees before the foundation, weeping.

Lambo stared, all the blood in his face flowing away as he contemplated what power could induce such a thing as he looked up to the blue sky...

“Gokudera! Gokudera-shi! Look up! Move!”

Roof tiles cracked on impact, shattering into so many shards and dust. Gokudera and Lambo back-pedalled, and even Sasagawa Ryohei slowed his jog and started backing away as their headquarters, the whole mansion proper, crashed into its own foundations from above. Dust exploded, glass flew about, plaster crumbled and concrete cracked in the titanic crash of a mansion falling from the sky.

A black portal shimmered over the front lawn. Five Arcobaleno, two clones of the Boss' ward in purple and green, and the Varia Boss fell onto the pressed grass, right as a crash resounded and two vehicles pulled up. The portal winked shut and disappeared a heartbeat later.

Belphegor exited from the one on Xanxus' right. Rasiel got out from the automobile on Xanxus' left. Both sneered at each other, though the gesture seemed to be perfunctory as more of the Varia members and leftover Millefiore members got out. A third car peeled across the lawn, swerving to a stop with Gamma running full-tilt out. “Boss! Boss! Are you alright, Yuni! Boss-?”

_Schick._

Fon, Colonello, and Lal stiffened.

Xanxus blinked, his neck wobbled, and then his head slid off of his shoulders and into his lap. A heartbeat drove the blood spraying as he fell onto his back, covering his executioner in his blood.

Yuni giggled, the warm blood dripping from her hat. The flame-patterned  _tantou_ in her hand remained stained with the blood of the Varia's boss. “ _Finally,_ ” she breathed.

“Ah,” Spanner started. “I... I was running from her,” he told everyone at large.

“YOU BITCH!” Squalo vaulted towards her, sword raised and burning to slash at her, but the blade fell through, harmless to the phantom.

“That is just an illusion composed of Mist Flames, solidified with regular application of Lightning Flame and empowered with remote-control sentience,” Murasaki spoke as green sparks appeared over the monster shaped like the Giglio Nero Boss. Neither surprise nor censure appeared on either of their identical faces, which was a given for robotic beings like themselves. “However, to truly pass as human, the shape must also be filled with the vessel of the target's memories, and freely change the colour of the Flame, while keeping your true body concealed. That is the Painted Skin function.”

“Memory Scoop, the precise manipulation of the mind that only the Mist Flame can achieve, is the sole province of our younger sister,” Midori added. “Sixth of the Veneridae Big Seven, Rete Vongole unit #264348, Ai.”

“Onee-sama, Midori-oneesama,” Yuni giggled as she performed a curtsy.

As she moved, Mist Flame began to slough off of her form, and her hair and face began to peel away like layers of a mandarin orange. Blue eyes lightened to the gold so prevalent amongst the Vongola bosses and the clones, except where the two other units had calm gold eyes, her eyes were the firelight of burnished red gold. Black tresses that hung limply and neatly bound gave way to feathered brown locks. Her bloodstained dress darkened into the dark greenish-blue of Japanese indigo.

“Ai is very happy to be able to talk to my sisters as Ai,” she continued. “The Administrator is good company, however she is always fixated on work for Maestro. As such, Ai has been wearing this skin for over two years now.”

“Over two years?” Gamma gaped. “Then... Boss... where is our Boss, you imposter!”

“Right here.” Ai motioned to her head. “Memory Scoop scoops all of a target's memories and allows me to act perfectly like Yuni, after Ai inputs her reflexes, taste buds, psychological and mental triggers, linguistic idiosyncrasies, and most other tics of her character into the projection. Boohoo, who's suspecting the poor traumatised girl?” Her smile turned wider. “The princess saved from the dragon by a knight, and continually visits that knight, making friends with his daughter, shuttling between two compounds as part of the agreement. A perfect cover, isn't it?”

“No, where is the real Yuni?!” Gamma shouted, his hands clenching into fists.

Ai blinked, her expressive face morphing into mild surprise. “It's been two years. Do you think Ai would either know or care? The only thing I care about is having more faces, and now...” her features melted into a perfect copy of Fon's, smiling as her clothes transformed into a  _changshan_ of Japanese indigo over white trousers. “...this face is perfect.”

“Mimicry is a herbivorous method of survival,” Hibari snarled. “Die.”

His pronouncement was immediately followed by a violent gust of wind that tore up the pile of debris and bodies that was the Iron Fort. The answer to who had done that stood before them.

Outfitted in a little black dress with black kitten heels, Elmo seemed ready to attend to a party. “#264348. What happened to the prime directive?”

Ai stopped. Her brow furrowed, and smoothed under pale skin. “Cell #80 and Cell #96 back on base.”

Elmo frowned from her position floating in the air. “What of Rokudo Mukuro?”

“He found out.” A sigh formed from her lips. “Ai had to break the directive.”

“Ah. How regretting.” Elmo turned her focus onto the multiple hitmen and fighters assembled before her with that statement, closing the topic.

“Who are you?” Ryohei challenged her. “What are you?! Why do you look extremely like Amaya?!”

“Idiot!” Gokudera scolded. “It's obvious! Asari Amaya didn't exist. Her identity was completely fake, an invention to enter the Vongola!”

“Yes, Elmo agrees,” came the languid answer. “You may know Elmo as Amaya Asari, the daughter of the Vongola Decimo. We sentient Box Weapons of the Rete Vongole are the children who inherited the shape of the original Clam through generations. We were created as the shadow of the Vongola Famiglia, by Sawada Ietsuna, the one whom you exiled for the crime of being inconvenient to you. Elmo is the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration, the Administrator and representative of the Network's will.”

“Sentient Box Weapons... evil robots?” Ryohei concluded. “Evil robots that look like Tsuna? Who came up with such an idea?”

“No,” Mammon drawled as she floated next to a wordless Belphegor. “Rete Vongole means 'Clam Network' in Italian. As for the children of the original Clam... In Chinese mythology, the  _sh_ _è_ _n_ is a clam monster believed to create mirages. That's why the word _shinkiro_ in Japanese involves the Kanji for  _shèn_. 1 That body, that shape, that face is merely an illusion of Mist Flame, solidified by Lightning Flame, projected by a Box Weapon Clam placed elsewhere, just like these three.” She pointed to Murasaki, Midori and Ai. “Asari Amaya... no, Elmo. Who made you? What purpose have you come to perform?”

“Destroy the Vongola Famiglia. Protect them all.”

“Destroy the Vongola Famiglia. Protect them all.”

“Destroy the Vongola Famiglia. Protect them all.”

“Destroy the Vongola Famiglia. Protect them all.”

All four identical clones echoed in perfect, toneless synchronisation.

The ensuing silence, though, weighed more heavily amongst their audience as the meaning of their words slowly sank in.

“Wash your neck! VOI!” Squalo took over, leading the Varia as they cried out for vengeance. Mammon floated up, before her form dissipated into the wind.

Lal Mirch drew back, aiming her shotgun as she pondered. “Where is the owner?”

A Box Weapon's main weakness was its owner; kill him, and the weapon would revert. That, with the limited artificial intelligence of most conventional Box Weapons, limited their role to simply being weapons and accompaniment, to be deployed at a hitman's discretion. The Vongola-Millefiore War illustrated that; for all the high technology available to the Millefiore, the Millefiore lost more Flame-capable hitmen that could be replaced, which presented a disaster in their strategy which was centred around deploying Box Weapons. The Vongola stuck to good logistics, centred their focus on people, and destroyed plenty of supply bases.

Some of those, thought Lal, were probably due to these sentient Box Weapons too.

“The Administrator has a Zooxanthellae multi-junction solar cell,” Murasaki announced. “She is a machine, independent of the Maestro.”

“Who cares!” Squalo shouted, though his expression spoke otherwise. As a flexible rational agent of its own, a sentient weapon could take chances to maximise the success of any arbitrary goal with options not available to mere humans in the field. As a flexible rational agent which was immune to pain, death and bodily needs; had minimal weak points; had its own power source and plenty of ammunition, plus the mysterious portals that followed her, Elmo was turning out to be a virtual nightmare.

Slowly, multiple portals that rotated widdershins began to form in the air. The distinct shape of the barrels of six GAU-8/A Avenger auto-cannons emerged from six points around the group, pointing straight down at them from multiple vantage points.

“Fucking hell, dammit,” Colonello admitted.

“For your information, Elmo was developed as Project Alastor,” Elmo spoke. “Elmo is the avenger of familial bloodshed.”

All six cannons fired as Murasaki tackled the man in red.

Having knocked Fon to the ground, Murasaki blinked as the Gatling-type autocannon sent a round through her. The hole burned black, the black spreading across her midriff and skin. Paling, she spotted a purple clamshell, still with a few strands of black attached as a bullet materialised and shattered it into shards, revealing the violet pearl within right before another bullet shattered it.

“Fon...” Murasaki reached out towards the man as her projected body burst into violet wisps of Cloud Flame, losing cohesion and blowing off into a stiff breeze. “ _Fēngzi_...”

* * *

“Chrome! Chrome!”

Chrome's eye opened, and then shut back as rays of light stabbed into her retina. “Ouch!”

“Oh. Ōtan, the lights.”

Shadow fell, and Chrome's eyelid rose again. She blinked. “B- Boss?”

“I'm so glad you're alright,” Tsuna told her. “Shoichi told me that two Vongola Guardians were stuck here as Elmo dealt with the rest, I'm so scared of what that means.”

A tear dropped from her eye. “B- Boss, M- Mukuro-sama... she killed Mukuro-sama.”

“W- What?”

“She killed Mukuro-sama,” Chrome hissed. “Mukuro-sama... is dead.”

“That is impossible, claims #Ff4E20 in doubt,” Ōtan spoke. “All units in the Rete Vongole have the directive installed in them. We are not allowed to harm, or allow by our inaction harm to occur, on eight individuals. Rokudo Mukuro is on that list.”

Tsuna did not speak.

“The...” Ōtan stopped, her eyes sliding to the side. She fell to silent contemplation of something, before she spoke again.

“Sixth December 2015, time-stamp 11:09,” narrated Ōtan. “Rokudo Mukuro moved from 'Vongola Guardian' to 'Enemy' after thrice-repeated declaration of his treachery of the Vongola, certified by Administrator Elmo under emergency protocol 69 of enemy classification guidelines. Summary execution applied with two bullets to the brain, one bullet to the heart, and one Black Bullet to burn the remains. Mist Flame recovered from remnants by unit #264348, determined by Hardware Emulation Lacuna Eclectic Nimbus Execution to be processed by warden unit #EAF4FC.”

“That's Geppaku,” Shoichi spoke. “She's just down the hallway- hey!” he shouted as Chrome threw herself out of her white cell, out from the bars at the front that curved like fangs in a beast's mouth, and ran down the hallway crowned with vaulted ceilings.

Her footsteps echoed from the rococo architecture, walls framed in winding gilt and floors made of bone-white marble conducting the sound of her footsteps to a conical dead end. There stood another Elmo clone, this one dressed in a moon-white shift, hands cradling the fuzzy outline of the indigo mist flame as a substance resembling white glue formed over it. The gluey substance hardened as the ball began floating again, shrinking and hardening until, instead of a flame, there was a pearl with an indigo sheen in her hands.

With some distant horror, Tsuna remembered Murasaki's jewellery; her choker, bracelets, anklet, earrings and the reference to her  _daemon units_. The jewellery were the only things, along with the Beretta, that never transformed with her. They were not part of her; not an illusion, but bushels and bushels of his brother's crime.

Chrome dived forward, knocking the pearl away from the white-dressed clone and cradling it to her chest, beginning to sob in earnest. “Mukuro-sama... Mukuro-sama!”

“The refinement has yet to proceed, Chrome Dokuro-sama, and never will, Elmo comments.”

Elmo was there, in a little black dress with a sweetheart neckline, the better to emphasise the choker around her neck from which a black pearl the size of Tsuna's thumb currently hung on its setting. “Rokudo-sama is still himself, albeit in spirit, adds Elmo. Elmo then poses a question to Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama: what do you think of the Chiavarone?”

“Chiavarone? D- Dino-sempai?” Tsuna started at the odd question. “H- He's nice, but Reborn bullies him... but he's still a very reliable friend! Reborn calls him a good ally.”

“Friend... Elmo contemplates.”

The narration only made her seem even more monstrous, because Tsuna finally figured out, there and then, what was so scary about Elmo. Though her face looked like him, both her face and her female body was a simple projection of Flame. It would fool the average perception, but the Vongola Hyper Intuition only magnified his perception of her every flawless move, every flawless feature, distorting the familiar face into a freakish nightmare that walked and talked like a human, but had all the warmth of a moving corpse.

“Kill them all, Elmo concludes.” Elmo then smiled, her movements deliberately changing her posture to something like a hostess; back straight, legs together. “#EAF4FC, Elmo will take charge of this pearl. What is the identified colour?”

“#393E41, Administrator, responds #EAF4FC.” The warden robotically turned back to watch the hallway. She made no other movements.

“Mukuro-sama...!” Chrome's hand moved towards her eye-patch, pulling it off in one movement.

“ _Gandhari_!”

Elmo barely moved; she did not need to, as a black portal swallowed the bullet of indigo light and winked out of existence with its cargo. “Are you done, asks Elmo?”

Chrome panted, cradling the pearl with Mukuro's soul to her chest. “H- How...”

“It is a macro, replies Elmo to the unspoken question regarding the mystery of the disappearing attack.”

Tsuna spoke first. “Who are you fighting? Away from here... who are you controlling a puppet against?”

Elmo's head bobbed. “Daemon unit #343434 has just killed the Chiavarone Decimo and burnt down their base. Daemon unit #180614 is currently facing a joint force of the Varia, Gamma of the Giglio Nero, four Arcobaleno and four Vongola Guardians: Gokudera Hayato, Lambo Bovino, Ryohei Sasagawa, and Kyoya Hibari. Kyoya Hibari was unexpected, given that Daemon unit #27211F should have sent him to two hundred metres above Mauna Loa in Hawaii.”

Tsuna didn't know which part of Hawaii was that. He did know, however, that a two-hundred metre fall was supposed to be fatal for humans.  _Hibari-san is still scary in the future..._ “Daemon units?”

“They are lesser units of the Rete Vongole, run by units with higher processing power with a background process.” Elmo blinked. “An easier comparison: puppets that are controlled remotely by Elmo.”

“None of them are fighting the real you,” Tsuna realised with a sinking feeling. “Elmo... is only a lie.”

“The real Elmo never came out either, adds #FF4E20,” Ōtan solemnly spoke up from behind Tsuna, her gold eyes fixated on Elmo. Behind her, Shoichi trembled. “We fought #232B2B at the church. That is only one of the Black Pearls. As long as the black Flame burns in the Vongola, as long as the Administrator exists, there will always be more Black Pearls.”

“You are the one whose delay killed my future self, destroyed my brother, and tore apart my family,” Tsuna spat at the administrator of the local bed of clam-shaped Box Weapons. “ _Elmo_!”

His Flame burned, should have burned, and yet it was extinguished by her slapping him across the face and the room.

“Boss!” Chrome screamed, rushing across the room to his side. Tsuna blinked at her, the Flame pills in his hands rattling, his hands wavering between the steel-reinforced of his gloves, or the greyed-white woollen mittens with the 27 motif still on them.

A pair of arms descended around him; Ōtan had somehow jumped in, shielding his body with hers from the worst of the crash. Orange flame shrouded her like a halo, a vision in gold that burned at his head wounds as well. On his chest, a weight pressed. Gold eyes met his own, and a tiny male lion with a visor over its flaming orange mane blinked at him.

“ _Gao,_ ” the lion lamented, before turning its back to Tsuna, growling at Elmo who was slowly walking towards him.

“Elmo is a Box Weapon blessed with full sentience.” The dispassionate perfection of her voice drawing Tsuna's greatest attention, because it was also marred for once in their acquaintance. “Do you understand what that means?”

“You're not human,” Tsuna spat.

“If humanity was the end goal of your actions, then the underworld is not a good place to end up, so Elmo understands.” Elmo stopped walking when Shoichi threw herself in her way, terror and a stench of piss all over him.

“Elmo _understands_. Elmo understands the following: Elmo was created by Papa, when the costs of such a weapon would have outweighed any possible benefit at the moment; Elmo is Papa's daughter; Elmo was created by Papa, when everyone else in the world would have Elmo left unrealised; Elmo must prove that Elmo is a viable investment or be scrapped, and with it Papa's future; Elmo must achieve every goal set to her, every order, or Elmo will no longer be family, or Papa will be disappointed; and, Elmo must try, no matter what, because Papa wants to keep Uncle's family together no matter the costs to his own.”

She stopped talking, less out of a need to breathe on her part and more to watch Tsuna's attention waver and return. “Elmo did not like it then; Elmo does not like it now. Elmo stayed because of your orders. In your future, _you_ will order Elmo to stay and let you bleed to death, Uncle. It is all on _you_ , not Elmo!”

Chrome started in shock, still trying to bind a splint on Tsuna's arm. “W- Why would Boss want to die? Why did... Boss choose this way? No, I don't believe you.”

“Elmo cannot lie about orders that are given.”

Tsuna raised his hand, silencing Chrome's retort. “My parents are dead, my brother took the fall with his life, and none of my friends saved him. That was as good a reason as any.”

* * *

“Elmo was born a spirit of Vendetta, a means to get back at the Millefiore. Now, Elmo is a vendetta waged from one side of the family against the other!” came the rallying cry over the roar of the Avenger cannons. “All of you played a part in his death!”

“The Rain Guardian did not set up a calming barrier!” Elmo howled as she leapt into the fray with teleporting people off with her bare hands amidst the barrage that sped at three times the speed of sound, a concussive sonic boom in time with her words. “The Sun Guardian made no effort to rush to the dying twin! The Mist Guardians were away! The Cloud Guardian was away! The Lightning was away! Of course, we cannot forget the loyal right-hand man who  _promptly_ arranged the funeral, along with the  _cremation!_ ”

In the midst of controlling multiple black loops that seemed composed of bone, Gokudera paled. “I- I- I-”

The rattling of auto-cannons stopped as Elmo held a Sig Sauer up, at Gokudera, point-blank. “You burned your own Boss into unidentifiable ashes just as the only person who could have given a positive identification arrived,” Elmo laughed, amidst the carnage of bodies and a torn-up lawn. “We fooled all of you with that!”

From a boxing kangaroo's pouch, a giant leopard burning with Storm Flames leapt out, eating through a tattoo of lead bullets only to fall to a full blast from a conjured P90.

“A leopard really never changes its spots,” Elmo smiled into the ashen expression of the Vongola right-hand. Her smile turned sweeter as she rested her Sig Sauer on his jaw. “You proved it with your beloved Boss. Now, go join him.”

On her trigger, Yamabuki hefted a tranquilliser dart rifle and released five darts aboard the Vongola dei Cieli. The darts blinked out of existence, and reappeared in Gokudera's back. He blinked at the lethal weapon in front of him, and then Elmo touched him, teleporting him into Cell #59 of the Vongola dei Cieli brig.

“Not.”

Barely a heartbeat after he disappeared, Elmo turned aside and moved towards Midori and Lambo. Black flames curled around her machine pistol, reloading the bullets as fast as she could shoot, peppering the Giglio Nero with lead bullets.

* * *

“And since I found out about Ie, I feel guilty,” Tsuna admitted. “Ten years before this future, I've been wondering why am _I_ fighting for this? Rather, why am I not struggling against the fate of a Mafia Boss? It was Ie, at the very heart of it. For all of his lies and mania, I forgave each and every one of them because I knew his intentions were for me. Even you, Elmo.”

Elmo stared back at him, in time with the growls from the lion. That is, until the lion was hip-checked and shoved off by a cold white wolf cub, who blinked at Tsuna from its perch on his chest with unfathomable eyes of gold.

“Vongola dei Cieli. Clam of the Skies. Both skies,” Tsuna emphasised. “Both the day and the night, two perfect halves joined in harmony. I must have forgotten that in the future.”

“Will you listen now to Elmo?” Elmo whispered. “Will you let Elmo return you to the past now?”

“I will,” Tsuna promised. “Because I know something now. No one would create you, Elmo, if this schism didn't happen in our family and turned irreparable. In a world where the Vongola dei Cieli exists, the Vongola Famiglia is dead. In a world where the Vongola Famiglia, the entire Famiglia is together... you don't exist, Elmo.”

Elmo inclined her head. “So it would seem of the sixteen million, seven hundred seventy-seven thousand, two hundred and sixteen time-lines reviewed so far. Observation by the Vongola dei Cieli, however, tends to change the result by collapsing the wave-function. Elmo will accept the gamble.”

“But you must be _aware_ ,” Tsuna spoke to Elmo, realising now that this was the first time he talked to Elmo as a human being. “The consequences are, you don't exist.”

“I do not exist in a world where my father happily lives in a family, and does not need to build an impossible machine to ensure his family survives,” his niece reasoned. “It is not a bad chance. Yet, Elmo reiterates willingness to bet that Elmo will still be created in some capacity.”

“Boss,” Chrome pleaded. “This is... Reborn would call this running away.”

“And Reborn is dead, Elmo points out, which renders all his advice moot by the simple reasoning that it did not contribute to his staying alive.”

“I- I have to protect the others.”

“Then I will kill them all, and you will have no one left to protect.”

Tsuna was about to protest the sudden threat out of left field when Elmo hummed, the gesture strangely placed. “Papa is up.”

“Already?!” Shoichi pushed past Tsuna in shock. “T- That's not possible, he's supposed to be-”

“I'm supposed to be _what_?” Shoichi froze as the voice echoed behind him.

The polite “Hello, Maestro” from two clones was lost as Tsuna and Chrome turned around, facing a male twin of Tsuna's at last.

“Hello, Tsuna,” said Sawada Ietsuna, the Maestro of the Rete Vongole, inventor of the Vongola dei Cieli.

* * *

 

_**1 In Japanese and Korean, shinkirō/singiru ** _ _**蜃気楼** _ _**is the usual word for "mirage", literally 'house of the shèn's breath'. In mythology, the shape-changing shèn is believed to cause a mirage or Fata Morgana.** _


	48. Folio 47: Apocalittica Madonna

 

In a brief vacation turned attempt to move the obstacle in his Boss' path, Gokudera Hayato had paid a brief visit to the Sedlec Ossuary. In that site, the bones of multiple parishioners of Kutná Hora had been buried till skeletonised, and then reassembled as decorations and furnishings of the chapel, macabre and yet soulful in their assemblage of bones.

The cell that he awoke in was similar; the cell itself was plain and nothing to speak of, containing the hammock he awoke in, a sea chest, a wash-stand and a bucket for private business. The door of his cell, though, was composed of a glass-like material, with green and blue inlaid to make out the shape of long bones: femur, tibia, fibula and all, assembled into glass as a simple mosaic. The door ended with the splayed metatarsal bones of left and right foot, fanning out the separate phalanges on each foot like dancing skeletons.

Nonplussed, Gokudera blinked at the inset pattern of his door. A stick of dynamite appeared in his hand, more out of reflex than anything as the Vongola Decimo's right-hand man started to reconsider his circumstances.

_You burned your own Boss into unidentifiable ashes just as the only person who could have given a positive identification arrived. We fooled all of you with that!_

Gokudera choked. He stumbled towards the bucket, head hanging in shame as the remains of a late lunch upended itself. The acid remained sour on his tongue as he sank to a crouch, shaking. Ten seconds passed before he turned around, lit his dynamite with Storm Flame, and lobbed it at the door before ducking for cover.

Somehow, a yellow sheen bloomed across the glass as the stick exploded. Coughing as acrid smoke blew around, Gokudera rubbed his eyes and glared at the stupid leg-bone mosaic on his door.

“Gotta be here... Hayato!” A thump sounded. “Can't you break it open?”

“You're lucky Spanner and Midori ended up in my cell, rain-head. Midori?”

“Gokudera-sama is on the other side of the door, reports #3EB370. Any method to be employed may injure him, Young Master.”

“I don't know what's this Young Master, but I'm not siding with him.” Another knock on the door. “Gokudera-shi, move away. I'm going to blow through with the Ferro Corno.”

Gokudera stared blankly as a loud impact sounded against his door, and nothing else happened.

“Huh? What happened?”

“The door, simple though it seems, is still a part of the Vongola dei Cieli.” Asari Amaya spoke beyond the door. “Sun Flames constantly activate the underlying two blue and one green layers of Mist, Rain and Lightning to combat Disintegration. Ferro Corno cannot amass enough velocity to break the door at a single point in such an enclosed space.”

“Stand back, Lambo. I'll slice through it!” A chink of metal against glass, and a swear.

“Baseball idiot,” Gokudera muttered curses under his breath as he got up.

“Hayato!”

“Shut up. Listen.” Gokudera snarled. “The Mist and Lightning flames work together to build up this door. No matter how many times you swing your swords, it can repair itself. We need...”

The stupid mosaic had just turned from irritating frippery to cleverly disguised malevolent interior decorating. Gokudera briefly gave a thought to wondering who would design a see-through door with leg bones on them, before deciding that the multiple puns of people peeking through the legs were best left untouched. Now, the problem was Rain, Mist and Lightning Flames, readied to activate if something happened to the door by a yellow flash.

“...if this door can conduct Dying Will Flames, then you need to add Rain Flame into the door and calm down the catalyst and the other three flames!” Gokudera shouted his realisation. “I'm going to try!”

He pressed his own hand to the door. Gokudera Hayato was the master of five different types of Flames: Storm, Rain, Lightning, Cloud and Sun. It was a simple matter to light all five Skull Rings that adorned his right hand and press the cyan flame onto the door.

That was, if the white walls themselves did not decide to glow with a glaucous sheen, and seize onto the flame. The grey ate into Gokudera's own salvation like a puff of wind to a candle.

“This door is intelligent, dammit,” Gokudera numbly blinked at the right femur he was touching.

“Don't touch it, Gokudera-sama!” Amaya called to him behind the other side of the door. “The Administrator has activated Grisaille on the Vongola dei Cieli. It will suck all Flames that comes into contact with it.”

“Why are you torturing us?” Gokudera yelled back. “Weren't you out to kill us just now?! You pulled six Gatling Avengers to do it!”

“#3EB370, designated Midori, is the third unit of the Veneridae Big Seven, written in service of the Vongola X generation.” The voice took a moment to reply. “To follow our directive, unit #4F284B – Murasaki, and myself, have broke away from the collective will of the Vongola dei Cieli in rebellion to help you escape. Midori is not Elmo, and does not answer to Elmo. Please listen to me. Murasaki has already led Fon-sama and Hibari-sama out of the brig, and they are leading the vanguard to kill Maestro. It will fail. You must escape.”

Veneridae Big Seven. It might not pass by most people unaware, but Gokudera Hayato was not the most book-smart of the Vongola Guardians for nothing – granted, it was easy when you considered how many of the Guardians valued brains over brawn anyway. “Venus clams? You're all... _vongola verace_.”

“That is correct. The Maestro decided that in Project Aphrodite, the Venerid clams are fixed exclusively for the Vongola Family. Even Elmo is a  _Tridacna_ clam, not a Venus clam.”

All clams of the same animal family, were to be used only by the Vongola Family. The pun was ridiculously poetic, Gokudera realised, if only to justify that Elmo was the giant clam-monster born from their family being torn apart.

“Takeshi... did you know?” Gokudera spoke to the glass. “Sawada Ietsuna made these... weapons.”

“I know. I walked into Yuni murder Mukuro and another guy, and then I ended up here.”

Yamamoto Takeshi sounded flippant to unlearned listeners, but was more than eloquent to Gokudera. “Mukuro? _Yuni_?”

“She's... not actually Yuni, right?”

Gokudera recalled Yuni's face peeling off. “No. She's another Amaya... I think. A sentient Box Weapon that took the place of the Giglio Nero Decima.”

“Then where's the real Yuni?”

Careful not to touch the glass, Gokudera leant on the frame and shook his head. “If it were someone else who had orchestrated the switch, I would say that Donna Yuni is alive, if trapped. But this is Sawada Ietsuna. The man who, if Boss was to be believed when he told me that story, wanted to toss the priceless Vongola Rings into the Sea of Japan when told about what they meant. The Boss entrusted him to destroy our Rings, because he knew that Sawada Ietsuna would gleefully do it. I cannot imagine that the rest of the Tri-Ni-Sette would fare as well as we have.”

“Midori?” An unfamiliar voice cut in then.

“Spanner-sama?”

“I'm going to try to unlock the door. By the way, can you tell if Donna Yuni is still alive?”

“I do not understand the meaning of alive. However, I can sense #FF4E20 – my apologies, Ōtan. She is with the time-displaced version of Sawada Tsunayoshi-sama.”

The bottom dropped in Gokudera's stomach. “ _What_?!” His reaction mirrored every Guardian on-site.

“Young Master, Unit #264348 has wiped your memory, but you summoned him to the past explicitly for this reason,” Midori pleaded. “You summoned him to persuaded our Maestro to let go of this vendetta against the rest of the criminal underworld.”

“Wait, so... Ietsuna's been on our side all along?” Yamamoto spoke up.

“He is on the side of the Vongola. _Only_ the Vongola,” Midori clarified. “The recent destruction of the Iron Fort proved that. All of its alliances, the Arcobaleno, the Varia, the Chiavarone, the Foundation... the Giglio Nero. Nocturne and the Vongola dei Cieli will let only this definition of the Vongola Famiglia alive: six Guardians and one Boss, _and no more_. Even that has changed.”

“What do you mean?” Yamamoto pressed his Rain-coated sword to the door, helping Gokudera along.

“The Mist Guardians are dead. Because the most likely result from this point of expected to be belligerence from the Vongole Guardians, protection of the Guardians is now deemed impossible. Therefore, Helene's execution will simply terminate every single function of the Vongola dei Cieli and kill everyone aboard... assuming that Elmo does not kill everyone first.”

* * *

Time had affected his brother too. Ietsuna was taller, his face thinner from losing baby fat, the gold irises of their family delineated by eye-bags. The Maestro of the Vongola dei Cieli wore a linen button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Jeans stretched out over nimble-looking legs that ended in black rubber-soled shoes. It would have been neat, if the entire ensemble was not currently rumpled and spattered in paint.

It made him look nice. This was a distinctly different impression that Tsuna had gotten over the course of days being stuck in the future. And, as Ietsuna knelt down to scratch behind the white canine's ears, he looked for a moment like a young man and his dog.

“Fuyu, enough with the slobber, this paint is temperature-sensitive,” Ietsuna spoke softly. “I see Natsu came with you. Natsu?”

The lion cub bristled, but reluctantly padded over and allowed its ears to be scratched. “ _Gao, gao._ ” It fled back, cannoning into Tsuna's arms.

“Natsu always does that,” Ietsuna commented. “He likes you more than me.”

“Hello, Ie.” Tsuna swallowed. “You've done a lot of bad things.”

“Oh, I have, and you're here to scold me,” he agreed. “After all, you're in my head.”

The anger that Tsuna had nursed in his chest faded. “Huh?”

“You're here with Chrome in my head to haunt me,” Ietsuna chattered, unsmiling. His hands fiddled around with his fingers. “Because I let you die.”

“No, I'm not a ghost, I'm from the past!” Tsuna grabbed his shoulders, looking into identical amber eyes. “Are you alright?!”

“No, I'm not,” Sawada Ietsuna shrugged. “Well, I feel... nothing. Can I hit you?”

“No, you may not,” Tsuna's head turned towards Shoichi, who seemed to find the floor very exciting to observe.

“Oh, Chrome! When did you get here?!” Ietsuna blinked as he spotted her. “You hate me.”

“Y- You killed Mukuro-sama,” Chrome replied, more unnerved than angry. The pearl in her hand shook.

“Oh.” The older half of the Sawada twins nodded. “He'll come back. Can you hit... Tsuna? Why are you here? Where is boxing practice?”

“You may hit Shoichi,” Tsuna bit back. “Because he seems to have forgotten to tell me that you went insane, Ie. What happened to you?”

Ietsuna pondered, and shook his head. “Don't know. What happened to me?”

“In order to create a miracle, sacrifices must be made.” Elmo spoke up. “The Vongola dei Cieli is a weapon directed to win an unwinnable war. Nowhere in reality, should the Vongola have won. In turning the tables, in creating us to manipulate the loom of fate, you gave up your sense of reality to operate the Vongola dei Cieli.”

“I did?” Ietsuna blinked at her. “Who are you?”

“Elmo is- I am your daughter, Elmo. The Essential Line Mannered Orchestration.”

“Elmo.” Amber eyes blinked. “I have a daughter? How surprising. Did I get married or something?”

“Elmo is your creation, Papa.”

“Oh.” He pouted, his cadence becoming slower. “Elmo. Did we win the war? Are the Millefiore dead?”

“Yes, Papa. It has been two years. We won.”

“That's great. I hope Tsuna is safe. Aren't you, Tsuna?” Ietsuna turned to his twin with a smile.

“Y- Yeah,” Tsuna agreed by force of habit when faced with his cheerful brother. “I think you really tried to save him.”

The smile faded. “Oh. You're not Tsuna. You died. Sorry. You should have been alive, Tsuna, and I should have been dead. I'm sorry. And Mukuro. I'm sorry.”

However childish the apology was, Tsuna hugged the adult twin in this future. “It's alright. It'll be okay.”

“Let's have dinner.” Ietsuna smiled at him, somehow at peace... and that was what was scary. Because there was nothing to change, nothing to fix, simply... a person so broken that not even Tsuna could reach into him. He was a walking corpse, literally – despite the Sky Flames that Tsuna could feel on his skin, there was another flame, a flame that the Sky was deflecting.

The will of his future self was still there, hiding his brother's death from the universe at large.

“Dinner?” Chrome repeated. “You killed Mukuro-sama and you still have the mood to... to _eat_?”

Ietsuna stared down at himself, as if this was the first time that he realised the state of his clothes. “I fell asleep in my paint-kit again. Why did I fall asleep in my paint-kit?”

“You-” Chrome gripped onto the pearl in her hands. Columns of lava erupted, each one bursting closer to him-

A _fwip_ of black flame redirected one lava column back at Chrome, who screeched and dismissed all the illusions.

“Now... what was that for?” Ietsuna's voice had gotten softer as the distant quality of his eyes sharpened. “You are trying to kill... me? C- Chrome?”

“You killed Mukuro-sama!” Chrome screeched.

His expression turned sincerely sad. “He's dead? Oh, Chrome. Why didn't you say anything?”

“Pretending to be Sawada Tsunayoshi doesn't work,” Chrome spat, pointing towards Tsuna. “The real one is right here!”

“Sent by Lambo in the past,” mused Ietsuna. “By a one-way Bazooka. The mechanics of the new bazooka do not involve swapping people across time and space. You could have killed me over a mere mistake.”

A flicker of unease crossed her face. “B- Boss? B- But- But-”

She froze. Her blood dripped onto a palette knife, the kind that only had a sharp point for finely scraping paint.

“But what?” Ietsuna smiled as black flames danced across the pointed blade. “Don't worry. See, your mistake wasn't serious. You're still part of the Family. You just need to die first, Chrome.”

“Ie! Stop that!” Tsuna popped two pills in his mouth, donning his gloves and immediately launching a rabbit punch. For once, it hit, to Tsuna's distant surprise. Ietsuna fell back, but with it his feet rose up, and the instep smacked Tsuna's jaw with vicious precision.

Too late, Tsuna recalled that Ietsuna had been taught with Savate.

Rolling with the blow, Tsuna lashed out, using the fire on his hands to keep Ietsuna away as he corrected his stance. The result was different; Ietsuna's arms pushed his feet right into Tsuna's area, putting his feet back on the ground and still slamming his body into Tsuna's body. There, Tsuna discovered that along with the height, his twin brother also packed more weight, being able to easily slam him into the bony marble floor.

“It's the first time you've hit me,” Ietsuna murmured, breath still calm and steady. “Why did you hit me?”

“You killed Chrome!” Tsuna punched him, but it seemed to have minimal effect. “You killed Chrome!”

“She tried to kill you, Tsuna,” Ietsuna's face twisted. “Don't worry. I promise you, this Family will stay together.”

“What are you talking about?! Chrome and Mukuro are dead!” Tsuna pleaded.

“Well, so are you. You're lonely, right? That's why you keep haunting me.”

“No, I'm real! I came from the past!” Tsuna's will to fight had dissipated, anger fading to concern. “You knew I was here!”

“But you're always here. You've always been with me since you died. I can't remember things because you're being the Vongola Decimo.”

The bottom dropped from his stomach. “What's going on? Ie, you're scaring me!”

“It's alright,” Ietsuna pleaded, smiling at him. “I'll make it alright. I have the means to change everything. Don't cry, Tsuna, don't cry. None of your Guardians want to revive you. They don't believe me, they don't believe in miracles. I do. I live every day because of you. So don't cry, Tsuna, I'll fix everything.”

A packed fist lashed out in a crochet, slamming into Tsuna's head and sending him into the hard marble ground.

“Don't cry, Tsuna,” Flesh slapped against flesh, Tsuna's ears ringing with each blow. “It'll be alright.”

“Papa, you're hitting the wrong person.” Elmo stopped the next blow by grabbing Ietsuna's raised palm. “He's not here yet.”

The gold eyes turned to her, Ietsuna's face a stunt of confusion. “He's not?”

“He's not. Elmo will tell you when he comes, Papa.” Elmo pulled Ietsuna off of the other twin with one hand. In her other hand, she wrenched off a black pearl around her neck. The pearl erupted into a ball of flame, before it grew and assumed Elmo's shape as she dropped it. “Follow me, Papa.”

Tsuna blinked in disbelief as one Elmo dragged his twin brother away. Elmo merely stayed there, half-kneeling as she reached a hand out to him. Blood coated her fingers.

“It's too late,” Shoichi reported, his bloodied hands pressing on the wound in Chrome's chest. “I'm sorry, Sawada-san...”

“Chrome...” Tsuna echoed in disbelief, stretching a flaming hand out.

Chrome's hands had kept a death grip on the burning pearl. Vacantly, her eyes blinked, revealing the red-and-blue heterochromic eyes under an eye-patch set askew. “This thing,” Chrome's lips moved in Mukuro's voice, “this project requires the user to will something into existence against common sense. To use it, one must give up all sense of reality. Don't touch me, Sawada Tsunayoshi; that Flame of yours will hurt.”

Tsuna set his hands away. “Mukuro,” his Hyper Dying Will recognised. “You... died.”

“Yes, you could call it dying.” Chrome's head jerked and lolled.

Footsteps echoed, along with the shouts of battle and the sharp retort of two gunshots. It was quickly followed by several gunshots.

“Hibari Kyoya,” Elmo muttered, her eyes obviously faraway. “Again?”

“Sawada Tsunayoshi, there is no way you can beat Elmo.” Mukuro started. “Even if you win against this unit, there are nine more slaved units that Elmo can retreat to. And, all your objectives are long lost here. There is nothing for you to fight, nothing for you to save, nothing to defend, because everyone is dead, and only you can fix this.”

Chrome's body was hit by a projectile speeding faster than Tsuna's eyes could keep up. When Tsuna blinked, Hibari was struggling and snarling to get back onto his feet, sporting a brilliant black eye and a torn shirt. “Hibari-san!”

“Little animal.” Hibari snapped back, eyes narrowing at Elmo. “Step away from it.”

“Hibari-san, I've decided.” Tsuna gave a sad smile. “I'm going back to the past.”

Grey eyes, the eyes of a predator, turned back onto him. “Giving up here?”

“Reborn, Chrome, and Mukuro are dead.” Tsuna shook his head. “Ie is insane. You fought him, you can testify to it. Even if we can win here, even if we can beat Elmo, there's no meaning to the Vongola Famiglia if these people cannot be saved.”

“Even if I cannot win here, there is no reason to give up,” Hibari stated. “You cannot understand the depths to which we went. Your future is this.” His eyes flickered, landing on Shoichi. “Irie Shoichi. Why am I not surprised?”

“No.” Tsuna protested. “I can say this, because this is my future. To me, none of this has happened yet. So, since right now I can go back in time, I can ensure that none of this ever needs to happen, that none of this will ever happen. Wasn't that... why Lambo summoned me here?”

“He summoned you here to stop Sawada Ietsuna,” Hibari replied, touching the shiner on his face. The flaming tonfas did not let up. “Percussive therapy is needed.”

Natsu yowled, jumping onto Hibari's foot as the tonfa swung. Without flinching, Tsuna took the blow, living only because of the power in his Hyper Dying Will.

“I will say it again,” Tsuna intoned. “I will go back into the past, and I will stop this from ever happening.”

“Then how do you know,” said Hibari, “that she will send you back to the correct time?”

“Because she's my niece,” Tsuna stared back at the dark-haired, dark-eyed prefect that he had worked with for most of his life. “She has lost her father to this madness too. The Sawada family has enough lost fathers, without adding an insane one.”

At this, Elmo simply blinked. Her eyes were seemingly vacant, but no one in her vicinity were underestimating her, not when she had single-handedly killed four Arcobaleno.

A roar resounded, with another crash.

“Tsuna!”

Fon sat astride a lion, also with a flaming mane, except it was black with orange flecks in colour. The lion gave another bellow at Elmo, unleashing a wave of Sky Flame that transformed other settings and the P90 Elmo levelled at him into the same plastic-looking polymer as the ground. Elmo's eyes narrowed, her fingers forming a pattern composed of black flame against the orange swath.

“Cutting Knives Waltz.” A wave of Storm-flecked knives stabbed and thudded on the lion. “Solar Knee.” A placement of Sun flame. “Super Levi Volta.” Lightning surrounded the black lion. “Scontro di Squalo.” Air slashes coated with Rain Flames tore swathes, cutting its left fore-paw off. “Uroboros.” Large eel-like creatures tore into a rear paw.

“The Varia techniques sucked into those black portals...” Hibari realised aloud.

“In a clam, the mantle is the dorsal cloak that makes the hard shell,” Elmo bowed her head. “Elmo's Mantle function creates a dimensional fold topologically similar to the Klein bottle around Elmo's chosen vessel. Whenever an attack touches the edge of this field, the energy of this attack is siphoned in the dimensional fold, and can later be released in any arbitrary direction of Elmo's choice.”

Before her, the black lion bellowed. It was joined from above, by a swarm of golden bees. Both bees and lion were then attacked by a murder of red-black crows, that was batted away by a great deer, whose horns sparked with green lightning.

“ _Gao_!” Natsu howled, grinning towards Elmo.

“All of you...” Elmo's eyes widened.

“Project Olympian!” Shoichi exclaimed.

“Sawada Ietsuna... to think you would tear others from their physical bodies so easily...!” Mukuro's voice snapped from Chrome's mouth. “If this is how you treat your family, I wonder where did you put your teacher?!”

“...Murasaki.” Tsuna turned to Mukuro. “Murasaki contained Alouette-san's... soul.”

Hibari's eyes briefly widened. “She's dead. She took the bullet for Uncle.”

“Then that's one more person we need to save,” Tsuna turned on Hibari. “These matters started when Alouette-san was arrested by the Vindice, right? Ten years ago... during the Daemon Spade issue on Shimon Island. I saw it. I saw what Fran and Shoichi showed me. Ie saved Alouette-san from dying alone in Vendicare, when none of her family was with her.”

“Then that was her choice.” Hibari's jaw relaxed, though. “I want to know something, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you doing this because it is the easy way out,” Hibari stared hard at him, “or because you are too weak to do so?”

Tsuna, in Hyper Dying Will, finally understood. From the beginning, Ie was the one with all the talent. Ever since Reborn's entry, Ietsuna had continued to fight in his place, always lobbying for his future to be something other than the Vongola Decimo. In this future, Tsuna might have traded becoming Decimo for Ie's safety and future, but the result had visibly torn apart their family; first by geography, then in interaction, and the deaths of their parents sealed it, especially when Ie apparently killed their father and Timoteo-jiisan for Tsuna.

Tsuna was the one with all the heart, he had thought. But that was untrue. Sawada Ietsuna had been the one ready to sacrifice his life as a baby to ensure that Sawada Tsunayoshi lived. Sawada Ietsuna had created Nocturne, and Elmo, and the girls in the Rete Vongole to win against the Millefiore. And, before everything went to hell, Sawada Ietsuna had been the one actively dismantling the Vongola Famiglia and arranging things to ensure Tsuna's wish for his friends.

His eyes wandered to the injured black lion. “You're... Giotto. Ie put you in that.” A twitch of his lips. “It suits you.”

The black lion huffed, cuffing Natsu on the mane as it laughed at him.

“In that dream... why did you apologise to me?” Tsuna asked.

The black lion's jaw opened. “ _Gao, gao_.”

“He said that the division of you twins created the destruction of the whole Famiglia.” Elmo translated. “You had the broadness of heart to accept others into the Famiglia, but not the strength to protect anyone. Papa had the strength to protect, but his heart had always been with you as the first priority. The two of you complement each other. The evidence for this was with Yuni; she was killed only after her safe escape from Arancia Manor.”

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

“'There is nothing to save here, in this dead end of a future,'” Elmo continued to translate. “'Therefore, since your purpose is to change the future, start with your own. Save your Guardians. Save your mentor. Save your brother. And, above all, save your family. If you can do all of that, the clam will die, and this monster of vengeance will have never been formed within us.'”

Ōtan walked over, her hand raised to take his. Tsuna's hand slipped into hers, allowing her to pull him up. “Ōtan... I'm sorry.”

“What is there to apologise, Boss?”

“Because of my brother, your human self... your name was Yuni,” Tsuna desperately told her. “You were the Donna Decima of your own Famiglia. You had people who loved you. Gamma loved you! And you lost all of that... with your body... and turned into a puppet.”

Ōtan remained quiet. “If #FF4E20... no, if Ōtan may speak...”

“Yes?” Tsuna blinked, realising that it was the first time that she had not referred to herself as a number.

“The internal database of Donna Yuni reveals her unique family circumstances. She knew her fate, knew the fates of others, but remained tied to a short lifespan and her inability to change anything.” Ōtan paused. “As part of the Big Seven, and the last unit, my responsibility to serve was largely gone from the moment of my creation. However, I was surrounded by sisters who, while not always understood, loved me. I was created by a Maestro who loved me, if the care placed into my creation was an indication. I might have forgotten the proper usage of my abilities with the Sky Flame, but I must have done quite a lot of changes and powers, if my sisters are any indication. Maestro has given me a measure of choice, a lifespan, and the power to change things. My only regret, is that I could not remember those who loved me, and whom I loved, in my previous life to carry over into this life.”

“But you don't know that,” Fon argued. His partner was nowhere to be seen, and he looked a mess.

Ōtan stopped for a beat. “I do realise that my thought processes may be subject to hacking, but my protocols do not detect an attack currently. Therefore, I can speak with relative certainty that, even reformatted, my first thought was still to protect you. It was my choice. However, if you are truly regretful, then why are you staying here when the means to change things are before you? And if you know that you would change this so that none of this would happen, then why do you apologise, knowing that it would be forgotten?”

Tsuna smiled, letting go of her hand. “Maybe it'll make me feel better, but they won't be forgotten. Not while you're here.”

A wave of dynamite came in. Gokudera charged, followed by Yamamoto. Hibari, apparently coming to a split-second decision, blocked three Guardians with his tonfas.

“Go.”

Tsuna turned to Elmo next. “I promise,” he said to the most powerful Box Weapon ever made, “I will make sure that this will never happen. And that will start with you never being created.”

“Even if my whole self disappears into the past, Elmo will still choose him over you.” Elmo inclined her head as a black portal appeared before them. “But if my whole self is only an illusion, yes, even then I will choose him. Papa, I'll just be setting out for a bit.”

They disappeared.

As the portal winked out, Ietsuna waved. “It's alright, Elmo. Let's go back...”

Without Elmo to maintain it, the reactor in the centre of the Vongola dei Cieli went into explosive meltdown. Cherenkov radiation spread around, turning the bottom half of the giant floating clam carrier a radiant blue, before it imploded and killed everyone aboard in the process.

_I'll make this miraculous time resound with a single blow of prayer, with you._

A black portal appeared in mid-air, dropping out the partners of Nocturne. Each of them blinked, staring at each other and then at the flames erupting from the sea, a veritable monsters being born beneath the waves of the Mediterranean Sea.

“The vengeance is done,” Verde realised. “He is... dead.”

“...oh.” Fran then began to cry.

* * *

It should be impossible to travel backwards in time, normally. For Elmo, she simply moved to the point of her choice: that the coordinates of the point being the middle of the Sea of Japan in 6th December 2005 was irrelevant to the universe at large as long s Elmo got from Point A to Point B, no matter the place or time.

She dropped Uncle ten minutes from his last departure point, idly watching as Uncle fell, screaming, and there was a shout and the hero of her life was teleporting up in a series of jumps to desperately reach him.

“Tsuna! I'm coming to help you now!” As the orange-sun of a beacon slowed descent with Sky Flames, a black moon appeared and Sawada Ietsuna emerged, tackling his brother in a bear hug as they fell to earth.

Sawada Ietsuna in December 2005 was not insane. He was not obsessed with miracles, or lost his notions of reality, or became overprotective of the Vongola legacy out of misplaced guilt.

Briefly, Elmo formed a portal, letting gravity drop her through it and assumed her normal form. A clam with a black mantle plopped into a sand-bed, waiting. Roughly ten minutes later, Elmo bit down on an unsuspecting foot.

“You got your foot stuck by a clam?”

“I got it stuck in a clam!” Julie Katou kicked out, and Elmo fell off, landing and rolling on the beach as the fedora-wearing boy ran up onto the coast, Mukuro giggling behind him.

“T- That's a really large clam!” Tsuna of much earlier spoke.

“There's nothing wrong with that. Giant clams are native to this part of the ocean.” Ietsuna picked up Elmo, tracing the white lines in the black mantle and the night-black fluted shell Elmo was contained in. “You know, they're more common to the warmer islands on the south. This fluted shell and intricate pattern on the mantle is part of the _Tridacna_ genus.”

“Wow... they don't look like Asari-san in the hotpot or Vongola-san in the spaghetti at all.” And that was the young master, still amazed by a big brother...

“Well, this is its big sister who, despite her size, wants to live in peace without any sign of sabotaging us. Get off, Lambo, I need to return her.” Ietsuna waded back into the littoral, to set Elmo back into the shallow waters. “You'll be happy as a clam – in high tide – here.”

_Elmo will be happy at Papa's side. Please wait for me, Papa._

* * *

As Tsuna sped through the blackness, he thought he had hallucinated two figures. Something clicked in his mind:

Castor and Pollux, the divine twins. They were fighting in the middle of a blackness that stretched empty into eternity.

Castor is composed like a celestial body, a shape of black outlined by the nebulae of stars. Castor wanted to destroy all that impeded his brother.

Pollux is personified fire, a supernova of orange and blue-white. Pollux loved Castor, but loved other things, and that made him oppose Castor.

Castor and Pollux are not fighting now; they are in a lull between rounds. They are embracing, floating in the heavens of their enclosed space. For now, they are at peace; together throughout life, death, time and space.

Elmo drops him a thousand metres above, and Tsuna falls, screaming as the air is stolen from his lungs before his Hyper Dying Will forces him to slow his own descent. It was there, that he saw his own brother, young and yet to turn mad, still in one piece. The spirit of vengeance that tore apart their family, that ironically was the very shape of the family; the clam-dragon; all of that had yet to exist. Would not exist, if Tsuna made the choice now.

He could do this.

With this thought in mind, he accepted the hug from his brother, even as they began to plummet back to earth.

“Ie, you came to save me.”

While he knows as he knew in the future, that he cannot save one Sawada Ietsuna and one Sawada Tsunayoshi, tonight his sleep will be eased by the knowledge that somewhere, they have not parted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, it's not over. Elmo is loose! Tsuna really has to step up his game here :D – LLS
> 
> Please review!


	49. Folio 48: Brunaille

 

The five minutes after the traitorous Lambo disappeared was possibly the most tense that any of them had felt. The helicopter landed first, allowing Fon and Alouette to dismount. The youngest skylark scowled, his tonfas still vibrating from the tightness of his fists and desire to continue biting.

“What the hell extremely happened?” Ryohei complained, so far lost in the sudden battles from a ghost suddenly turned solid and the role of the Simon in this.

“The adult cow kidnapped the Boss!” Gokudera floundered, about to reach for the young Lambo before Ietsuna lifted him out of the way.

“It's obviously not this Lambo, or else he would have said something!”

“Geh! Why are you siding with the cow-brat, Ietsuna-sama?!”

“Why should I not? It's his future self that did this, not his present self,” Gold eyes were trapped under a furrowed brow, like the herald of a thunderstorm. “Tsuna wouldn't want you to hit a kid anyway!”

Timoteo finally clambered out, followed by Reborn. Reborn made a running leap, attempting to kick at Lambo and Ietsuna, but missed narrowly by dint of a full-body twitch. “And I mean you too, Reborn!”

“I'm so sorry, Ietsuna-san!” Enma started. “This was because you all followed us...”

“Enma, this is not the best time to panic.” Ietsuna retorted, albeit in a gentler tone. “We... should all get back to the boat. Dammit. Can we all move?”

“Sadly, we're not moving from this location.” Timoteo's eyes moved to land on Mukuro. “Because he broke the terms of his parole, Rokudo Mukuro and his posse to be returned to Vendicare, effect immediately.”

Ietsuna's back straightened. “I hate to say it, but they weren't even here-”

“The clause, being the wilful use of cursed gewgaws and human-derived objects.” Timoteo overruled with a sad glance. “No matter where he got it from, Rokudo Mukuro did knowingly use a  _Kuman Thong_  in the execution of... whatever this is.”

Alouette's head snapped up, glancing from Mukuro's fading illusion superimposed over Chrome, to Timoteo, to Tsuna, and then the cycle kept repeating. “It is not his fault. There was an opponent he could not defeat.”

“Madame Lei, he did break the rules.” Timoteo argued.

“Can we save all of this talk later?” Ietsuna butted in indignantly. “Mami needs sleep and a hot drink, order variable. Hell, Enma and his guys need a drink, and we all need to... calm down. We need a place with four walls and a roof to restore some civility.”

“Our house in the town,” Enma immediately offered.

“...Enma. You said this was a deserted island.”

“It is! It's a replica of an Italian town... means it's a ghost town,” Enma quickly corrected. “Erm... something like that.”

“What Enma meant,” Adelheid took over, “is that this island belongs to us, and therefore we have amenities here to actually live in, instead of roughing it out. And since all of this was precipitated in part by the kidnapping of our youngest, we graciously offer you the use of those amenities. It can't place a helicopter, though.” She gave it an askance glance. “How did it get past the defences?”

“Bouche drove.”

“...ah.”

Multiple black portals blossomed across the space between the inland of Shimon Island and its coast, and from them arose many black-swathed people. Each wore a top hat, and some form of black outerwear. Any visible part of their skin, be it their hands, or their face, was covered in pristine white bandages, much like a walking mummy.

“W- Who are these people?” Ietsuna blinked.

“The Vindice, Sawada Ietsuna,” Mukuro snarled, glaring at all of them.

“Ietsuna, don't fight them,” Reborn cautioned. “It's not wise to mess with the Vindice.”

“While normally I would totally rebel...” Ietsuna looked pissed off at the admission he was making, “...but finding Tsuna is way more important. It's just... those portals...”

“Portals?” Timoteo echoed in mild interest, tempered with wariness.

“ _None of those matter._ ” Chains jangled as their leader, a tall man with stringy raven hair streaming from under his hat, spoke. “ _Rokudo Mukuro broke the rules of his parole._ _That cursed object is something that should never have been made,_ _especially not by him_ _._ _Now two people must amend this mistake._ ”

“But without it, he wouldn't have won against Daemon Spade,” Ietsuna argued. “Furthermore, we cannot discount the fact of there being no evidence of falsifiable evidence that he knew what it was-”

“I knew what it was!” Mukuro spat, cutting through Ietsuna's attempting at reasoning. “I knew its uses. I also knew that it was protecting its territory all along, against an incorporeal assassin. But I wasn't the only illusionist who knew who held it, was I?”

Alouette's hand dropped momentarily to her cane. She stiffened, before she made her hand relax with much effort. Her grey eyes closed.

“Vindice, how long would you have waited until someone else did your job for you?!” Mukuro mocked. “Or it didn't matter to you at all, as long as Daemon Spade was kept searching? Searching and searching, looking for revenge... it didn't matter to you, not as long as Daemon Spade was kept occupied, was he? You could have taken him out any time you wanted, but you didn't!”

“ _Be silent, Rokudo._ ”

“I did it alone,” Mukuro smirked, his illusionary self wavering. “I stole the base materials from the hospital mortuary. The knowledge needed to make it were in some old manuscripts the old bird carried from Cambodia with her. What I invoked scattered Daemon's soul along with his newly solidified body – a permanent death. The birdbrain of an addled old woman never knew anything!”

At this, even Hibari turned in surprise to blink at Mukuro. He was not alone; Fon inclined his head, Timoteo fumbled his cane, and even Alouette's eyes flew wide open in naked shock.

“ _Neither your spirit nor your body will ever leave Vendicare. But since Madame Lei, Kakimoto, Joshima and Dokuro were not involved, they will be free as you languish in Vendicare for the rest of your natural lifespan._ ”

“I have all the time to reincarnate,” Mukuro lazily retorted. “But you, on the other hand-”

“Wait, there's something in the sky!” Yamamoto interrupted, pointing abovehead into a clear blue sky where a large portal was appearing. From the portal dropped a small body... screaming... and bursting into orange flame...

“Oh gods, Tsuna!” Ietsuna set Lambo down, placing his feet apart and his hand on a ground that there were three contact points before he leapt, and the black smoke surrounded him.

_Fwip-fwip-fwip-fwip-fwip._

By allowing gravity to push him through one portal and out to another portal above, a series of spatial jumps allowed him to essentially fly.

“Tsuna!” he shouted. “I'm coming to save you now!”

He tackled his brother in free fall, locking his arms at the still point, the point where it seemed it was just the two of them floating in the skies.

“Ie. You came to save me.”

The portal began to shrink, but there was a shadow. A silhouette, of a head, and wings, and then-

A gold eye, flashing before the portal winked out of existence and they started to fall back to earth.

“What the hell?” Ietsuna stared into the white-blue space that was the sky, before he realised that landing was his paramount concern at the moment. “Oh shit-”

The Sea of Japan greeted them with a crash, beating the air from his lungs and invading his nose and mouth. Ietsuna let go, staring as he plummeted even further into the depths, watching a flaming gloved hand and Tsuna – Hyper Dying Will, arms stretched towards him, trying to seize him lift him-

_Kick. Swim. Rise, damn you._

His arms and legs moved, flailing and kicking until his head broke the sea surface with a loud, salt-tinged gasp. “Tsuna!”

“Don't. Talk.” Tsuna glared back at him. “I. Can't. Swim.”

Ietsuna blinked as all of his limbs worked towards treading water. “Uh...”

The current tore at their bodies, moving until a rogue wave smacked them on a rock jutting out from the middle of the sea. Shimon Island was nowhere in sight, but that was presumably due to the island's illusion defences, rather than the twins being way too far from the island.

Ietsuna spat out a wad of seawater. “Problem solved.”

Tsuna shook his head, and began to stroke his hair free of water, looking more like a drowned kitten. “How did you- I didn't see you do that. Before.”

“Improvised it.” Ietsuna looked at him. “Are you okay? No broken... oh my god, who hit you?!”

The Sky Flame puffed out as Tsuna smacked himself in the very obvious black eye over the left side of his face.

“I'll kill them.”

_They don't believe me, they don't believe in miracles. I do. I live every day because of you. So don't cry, Tsuna, I'll fix everything-!_

“It's a long story.” Tsuna looked at the rock that they were stranded on. “I was gone for two days.”

“That's strange. It's only been five minutes.”

“Mmm.” Tsuna looked at Ie. “Can I... tell you-”

An index finger pressed itself against Tsuna's lips. “No one knows what the future may have,” Ietsuna gravely imparted. “If it's a future, it's only a potential end. Right here and now, why should we let the possibility of our future blind us to the choices of the present?”

“It's important!” Tsuna burst out. “I die, and you go insane trying to hide my death by acting as me in the future. Adult Lambo summoned me to stop this possibility! And the main reason why is because the whole Vongola won't accept you for some reason, and- and you built a really scary weapon I can't even understand that will kill everyone in the future, so that's the kind of future I'm trying to avoid! What good is the possibility of our future, if our whole family is torn apart by those same possibilities?!”

Salt water mixed with salt water. “I'm terrified,” Tsuna continued, “because either of us becoming the Tenth ends up with the same possibility, that our family is torn apart. If you were the one who became Decimo but died, I can see myself going crazy.”

Hand shaking, Ietsuna reached towards his brother's shoulder in an awkward pat.

“Why would we be torn apart?” Ietsuna wondered. “We have Gokudera, Yamamoto, Sasagawa-sempai, Lambo, I-Pin, Fuuta... even Hibari, if you stretch the definition of being together.”

“I mean our blood family. You ended up killing our father, an innocent girl, and a lot of people.”

“...” Sawada Ietsuna's hand flopped onto grey granite. Somehow, the blank look which was the closest approximation of naked shock that anyone – even his twin brother – was going to get, made everything much more real.

“And your creations scare me,” Tsuna continued ranting. “Especially Elmo- oh, wait, you don't know her yet, please never meet her, actually never create her, it'll be horrible-”

“Get a hold of yourself, man!” Ietsuna nearly yelled, but maintained the volume of his voice. “It's all over. It's a terrifying future... I'll give you that. But you're back. In the present. I k- killed people in that future, but that's not guaranteed in _this_ future.”

“I- I suppose...” Tsuna shook his head as the roar of chopper blades approached, and a helicopter appeared in the horizon flying towards their direction. “Just five minutes?”

“Those five minutes were very exciting,” Ietsuna started to explain everything, including the sequence of events leading to a quick teleport straight up into the lower atmosphere to catch his twin.

* * *

Both brothers were therefore prepared when the helicopter dropped them off on Shimon Island's castle town, and several coat-wearing top-hatted figures escorted them right into the great hall of the castle.

“You won a castle, Enma?!” Ietsuna spoke in awe, never actually paying attention to the two Arcobaleno in front of him.

Tsuna paid attention to Reborn's twitching figure and the stillness of the second Arcobaleno, who wore a black top hat, was covered in a black cloak over white linen bandages, and around his neck hung a clear pacifier.

Clear Pacifier.

“Dammit.”

Ietsuna did a double-take at the swear. “Tsuna, what is it?”

“There's... an Arcobaleno.”

“ _I am Bermuda von Veckenschtein._ ” the other baby started, his voice high-pitched yet somehow much more sinister. This was the voice of someone used to getting his way.

“ _Boss of the Vindice._ ” No wonder.

Ietsuna blinked at him. “Nice to meet you,” he bowed shortly. “Somehow, should we discuss everything here? It's kinda cold, and Tsuna needs a shock blanket. Where is our host?”

“I'm not in shock!”

“Well, some of us want to take photos.”

“ _Enough_!” the baby's snap broke the banter between siblings. “ _The Simon Decimo and his entourage is recuperating with_ _Rokudo,_ _the Arcobaleno Fon, and Madame Alouette Lei,_ _and_ _the_ _other_ _Vongola_ _people_ _._ _The reason for our meeting here, in this isolated great hall, is to discuss the_ _subject of our interest._ ”

A different tone came into his voice. “ _Sawada Ietsuna, we are here to discuss your Flame._ ”

“Sure, but can we do it over coffee? Not having a hot drink after falling into the sea is just waiting for a cold. This is basic hygiene, no?”

The clink of a chain arrested Ietsuna's turn towards a side alcove, towards a corridor that seemed to lead further inwards. “ _We will discuss it now._ ”

“Ie!” Tsuna blinked as his twin continued walking, his back proudly turned to them. He followed the other unsteadily, gold eyes never actually relaxing their vigilance until all four of them had somehow ended up in a white-tiled kitchen, two babies seated at a table as the twins fiddled with a portable kettle and pottered around.

“For an abandoned island, the place looks like Kozato-san's vacation pad,” Ietsuna remarked, extracting an economy-size pack of wheat crackers. “I wonder how is he and Mamie-san.”

“Enma's parents have been notified,” Reborn haughtily responded. “Right now, the Vindice are prepared to drop all charges on Rokudo Mukuro if you cooperate, Ietsuna. Tsuna, you as well. During those five minutes of your disappearance, where did fifteen-year-old Lambo send you? What did you see? And, what sent you back?”

“ _Irrelevant,_ ” The Vindice Boss intervened. “ _What Sawada Tsunayoshi saw or did not see in the future, is irrelevant to the current topic; the Flame of Night, in the hands of Vongola Primo's bloodline._ ”

“Flame... of... Night...?” Ietsuna haltingly echoed. “I've always had this black Flame. So it's called the Flame of Night? What's so special about it?”

“ _It is the Flame_ _that exists_ _exclusively within the Vindice..._ _at least, to our knowledge._ ” Bermuda's head inclined. “ _In order to create it, one must have all-encompassing hate. There is no way a child can be born with such hate at the world from the moment of its conception. Humans at birth have neither the capacity, nor the understanding, required to harbour such toxic levels of hatred and loathing to birth such a Flame._ ”

“My, thanks for the compliment.” Ietsuna pondered.

Tsuna sipped his own Milo, deeply aware that he had no place here, not yet. It was up to Ie to win friends and influence people here...

“Out of curiosity... do your recruits start with the Night Flame, or the toxic levels of hatred and vengeance is cultivated on... whatever it is you do?”

There went any possible chance of goodwill.

“ _We serve the justice in the underworld._ _We mete out punishment to those your civilian courts cannot touch._ ”

Ietsuna's lips pursed as he quoted: “'Farewell to all the feelings that expand the heart! I have been heaven's substitute to recompense the good — now the god of vengeance yields to me his power to punish the wicked.' – _Count of Monte Cristo_.”

“ _E_ _xactly,_ ” Bermuda seemed... approving, Tsuna realised. “ _Dumas does not seem like standard reading fare_ _in the Japanese education system_ _._ ”

“Maître doesn't just keep Cambodian spell-books in her flat,” Ietsuna defended. “I've read every Savate manual she has, and all of those are in French. I find, though, that I prefer reading Dumas  _fils_  to Dumas  _père_.”

The segue into literature somehow went over Tsuna's head, leading him to feel like a third wheel.  _I didn't know I'd have to apply Reborn's lessons on coded conversations so soon...!_  

Bermuda hummed over the tea he had been offered. “ _It seems there are many parallels between the Lady of the Camellias and_ Frau _Sawada._ ”

“That has occurred to me,” Ietsuna delicately replied, adroit in the face of social niceties in the backhandedly complimentary fashion Tsuna had somehow managed to miss out on. “I confess, though, I usually think of my mother in relation to Henrik Ibsen's Nora.”

“What's that about our mother?” Tsuna burst out, despite himself.

Ietsuna patiently sipped at his tea. “We were discussing European theatre. Bermuda-san compared Kaa-san to the tragic heroines in Alexandre Dumas the younger's  _Lady of the Camellias_ , where the heroine dies sad and alone and unmourned in the end. I told him that Kaa-san isn't an extreme doormat when faced with our father, because she probably has the will to walk out on him to find herself instead of constantly playing a sick charade of their eternal honeymoon- but we digress. We were _supposed_ to talk about my propensity to hate, so intensely in fact, that as a baby I have had access to the Flames of Night, which stems only from toxic hatred.”

“ _And yet he is not drawn to the revenge tragedy, but to the tragic heroines!_ ” Bermuda added. “ _But_ _do you have enough_ _to create the Eighth Flame_ _?_ _Along with the Flame of the Eighth Element, comes great responsibility._ ”

“Thank you for saying that.”

“... _I have not_ _mentioned the responsibilities_ _._ ”

“No, you have not. But there you have given us a clue.”

“Clue?” Tsuna racked his brains, and shook his head. “What clue?”

“Do I have enough to _create_ the Eighth Flame,” Ietsuna reiterated, tapping the tip of his left index finger onto the table. “That implies two things; one, that the Eighth Flame... the _Night_ Flame, has the property of transference. Secondly, it can exist without someone powering it. Of course, usually that's impossible, but Xanxus and his incredible Mosca that Maître destroyed proved that power source, and user, can be independent of each other. In short, the Flames that a person holds, is not necessarily theirs from birth, but can be given. And given the many, many uses of creating portals, such a power is incredibly easy to abuse. I can only imagine that the reason for why I am here, and not already dead, is because you are trying to determine if there is someone else with black Flames... or if I had already held these black Flames since birth.”

The light faded from his eyes. “You think that I am possessed?”

“ _Clearly not._ _But there is still the mystery of how you got the Flame._ ”

“I am sorry, but I do not know either.”

“ _Then I will find out._ ”

Ietsuna kicked himself back as portals surrounded him. The chair fell to the ground, but after its occupier had managed to back-flip and kick a Vindice in the face. Bermuda disappeared in a bouquet of black flame as Ietsuna rolled, using the Vindice as leverage to flip out of the kitchen.

“Ie!” Tsuna stood up, flinching as a bullet nearly cut across his face.

“Don't interfere, Tsuna!” Reborn's gun was out, pointed towards his student. “Being involved with the Vindice is more trouble than it's worth.”

“But I can't stand by and let them attack my brother!” Tsuna defended, ignoring the next bullet with a duck of his head and a dash towards his brother, who had started running.

The next bullet dug into his leg, and Tsuna fell. His hands, though kept scrabbling though they stopped mid-scratch when Reborn landed on his head.

“My job is to raise you as the Tenth Boss,” Reborn intoned. “After the matter with Xanxus, that was the decision. Fighting the Vindice would assure your arrest and imprisonment in Vendicare with him. Sawada Ietsuna is an existence that will not become part of the Mafia, and will simply break anything we build. Give up on him.”

“I can't!” Tsuna dragged himself, Reborn and all, out of the kitchen and into the dusty corridor with moth-eaten carpets. “He never gave up on me! Not even in the future – not even when I died! He abandoned his own name to make sure everyone was protected, happy and safe!”

Reborn stomped down. The effort was somehow enough to drive Tsuna's face into the carpet. “It is because of his existence that you can stubbornly cling to this. That you can simply remain as you are because your problems will be solved anyway. The Vongola doesn't need two heirs. Giving one to the Vindice would protect all your friends and family.”

“If that is what they decided, I don't need people who can abandon their family so easily!” Tsuna roared. “This led to that horrible future!”

His brow furrowed, his brown eyes lightened, and a flame of gold sparked on his forehead as he pulled, throwing himself down the hallway and crashing into a drawing-room. A black cloak and a top hat ran askew; Tsuna had unwittingly tossed himself onto one of the guards of Vendicare.

Ietsuna was now facing two Vindice out of the three Vindice; the last one was currently underneath Tsuna. As he threw out two kicks, the Vindice's chains made contact with his forearms and hooked them. Ietsuna roared, tossing out two right jabs as his left hand went slack, its chain dropping as Ietsuna's right hand pulled and the chain went taut.

Tsuna moved. The blast of Sky Flame ate across the room, causing both Ietsuna and the Vindice holding the chain to dodge the flame, tearing them apart. Ietsuna hit a dusty wooden couch, causing the entire piece to roll and fall back, hiding him from sight.

“Thanks...” Ietsuna got back up, leaning on the fallen couch. “The chain... oh.”

The metal jangled as Ietsuna was accosted by another Vindice. Both of them grappled, Ietsuna huffing as an uppercut and a cross found his head before the chain pulled taut. The Vindice collapsed onto the younger fighter, and Tsuna saw that his brother had wound the chain around the man's neck, pulling it across the bandaged throat. The Vindice slammed his left hand into Ietsuna's temple, but the other snarled and pulled the chain as he struggled out. The chain continued to tighten as Ietsuna slowly moved himself onto the other's back, knocking the top hat askew.

Tsuna's hand was out, but both targets were too close. Reborn's kick knocked it away anyway, right before the Vindice got up and fell onto his back, throwing all of his weight to crush Ietsuna.

“You guys are pains!” Ietsuna's complaint went unacknowledged as an explosion of black flame nearly took his right leg off. “Just. Fall. Already!”

Black flame formed in his own fist as he threw his own jab. The flames exploded with tremendous power, scorching off the top part of his coat and blowing off the black hat. Uninterrupted, Ietsuna's hand landed on the bandaged, rotted face.

Ice took over the man's entire being. Mid-scream, he was cut off as the ice consumed his entire being.

Under Tsuna, the third Vindice stirred, onto to find Tsuna's flaming gloves at close-quarters. “Don't interfere-”

“You guys are Arcobaleno!” Ietsuna started to complain as Bermuda reappeared. “This is so unfair! Why are there so _many_ of you? Shit!”

“This is not the time!” Tsuna continued to yell. “There is something even more terrifying! It sent me back, but now it is here! What we need to do is stick together to face that horrible monster! That monster in the future, killed all the Arcobaleno, even Yuni, and it killed Mukuro and Chrome... that monster, Elmo! It is here!”

* * *

Somewhere in Italy, a hydraulic lift collapsed with a kick, and with it the roller that its young mechanic was lying upon rolled to the far end of the chop-shop.

“Good afternoon. Are you the mechanic called Spanner?”

“Japanese?” the young blond mechanic blinked at the speaker with green eyes in the hot Mediterranean sunlight that never seemed to leave, even in December. “Japanese...”

“I have come from the Sea of Japan to find you, Signor,” the vision before his eyes spoke, crossing her legs almost shyly. “Will you give me an audience? I find that there is a mechanical contrivance I require. That is, if you will.”

The green eyes shimmered. “You're just my type, the Yamato Nadeshiko.” He sat up, scrambling back to his feet. “What can I do for you?”

The monster called Elmo smiled. “I think,” she said, “there is quite a scope of things I can imagine. What say you to a round-trip to Japan, Spanner...-san? Come closer. I will tell you _everything_.”


	50. Folio 49: Grisaille

“This is a fucking nightmare.”

Kozato Mami, youngest daughter of the Kozato extended family, and by extension the Simon clan, awoke to those words. Usually, the sounds accompanying a swear would be the choking of people on soap from Adelheid’s purification, but clearly the prefect wasn’t present. Or she was out of earshot.

Or her own elder brother had actually swore, which was near-impossible; Kozato Enma was known as the most well-mannered boy in Shimon Town. Even _that_ Sawada twin liked him, and while Mami was not disillusioned by the necessary violence of the Namimori Disciplinary Committee staff, she was very certain that Sawada Ietsuna didn’t actually make friends with anyone outside of his own brother. Her father only got a respect borne from long acquaintanceship.

“Why is it the Vindice?” That was actually her brother. “Vongola, Daemon Spade... long history... what on earth? How does that link up?”

“From what the... the wardens said, the Vongola and Simon clans were founded at the same time with strong links,” Adel’s voice soothed Mami’s sudden worry. “Daemon Spade’s possession of Mami was a ploy on his part to kill us with the Vongola’s borrowed sword. Apparently, century-old treaties are still considered binding on us.”

“We were lucky that Sawada-san took our side,” Enma conceded. “I can’t imagine what would happen to Mami.”

Mami started to sit up, drawing attention.

“Mami!” Enma knelt at the foot of the camp-bed she was laid on. “Are you alright? Does your head hurt?”

“Do you feel homicidal?” Julie added. “Well, you were possessed, so I don’t blame you, but some notice would at least let me get away with my life- oi, don’t break the bed!” His monologue turned scolding as Mami’s fingers dented the hollow steel frame under her hand.

“You totally deserve that,” Rauji told the Simon’s illusionist. “Shittopi-chan, are you done?”

Leaning with her left ear flat against the room’s wall, P. Shitt gave a thumb-down signal. “They’re fighting.”

“Who?” Enma’s back straightened.

“Ietsuna-san.”

“Against the _Vindice_?”

“The Mafia’s wardens?” Mami echoed.

“Shit!”

“Enma,” Adel warned. Her expression, though, completely agreed with Enma’s worried fury. “Do we fight?”

Mami stood up, stumbling slightly from long hours in repose. Her matted hair stuck against her cheek; quickly, she retied two pigtails of her carmine locks. “I can fight!”

“Good,” Enma stood up, about to run out with them but for the intervention of Adel. The Shimon prefect drew two metal fans, each of them rimmed with frost as she somehow exerted her Flame with more dexterity than most hitmen.

“Ietsuna-san can’t be with the Vongola if they’re willing to fight here,” Adel’s voice was pitched low. “Enma, Mami, we can’t fight the Vindice just for one person.” Her eyes fell on Mami.

Brother and sister glanced at each other; having grown up in the shadow of massacres and persecution, they had grown somewhat familiar with the unspoken rules.

“This is our house!” Mami retorted finally. “If I can’t fight for my friend, then I’ll fight for the fact that they are thrashing our island!”

Adel started, but the siblings were already moving; Mami grabbed onto Adel’s left hand, Enma took the right. Flames of ochre came easily to them, and their gravity decreased, allowing them to flip over her head and make for the doorway. The stairwell was right outside their room, and at the bottom of the stairwell was the fight.

The Sawada twins had clearly put up a decent fight; one Vindice warden was laid out cold under Tsuna’s sprawled back, and another Vindice was frozen in a giant ice block. A third Vindice held a baby Vindice on his shoulder, the sole visible eye from the formidable warden glaring towards Ietsuna and the giant ice block. Reborn had drawn his gun, pointed at the Vindice.

“Elmo is here,” Tsuna was explaining. “This is not the time to fight if that monster followed me from the future.”

“That kind of monster doesn’t exist!” Reborn argued. “A monster that can kill Arcobaleno,  _I Prescelti Sette_? That can kill Mukuro?”

“Like Daemon Spade doesn’t exist?” Ietsuna defended his twin. “Like talking Mafia babies and... well, whatever this is, doesn’t exist? And... Vecken... Bermuda-san. This Flame that we share... if this Flame exists, then why preclude the possibility of such a monster that killed everyone in the future? Let us go back to the kitchen and talk about it. You can examine me, I can... figure things out, we can find this Elmo, whatever Tsuna says.”

“Ie!” Tsuna burst out.

“Not now, Tsuna!” Ietsuna snapped back. “I believe you. It’s not easy, but I believe at least that an illusionist didn’t get to your head, though you’re not escaping a psychiatric examination if I can help it. The important thing now, is to make sure that everyone knows this Elmo threat, and that one of us can tell the others.”

Tsuna stared at him. “But... everyone knows.”

“Only us!” Ietsuna impatiently clarified. “I- I’ll go with... Bermuda-san. You... go tell the others. Gokudera, Yamamoto, Hibari, Mukuro, Chrome... hell, even Sasagawa-sempai and Lambo. Dad, if it helps and he’s not on a drunken bender.”

“But I can’t leave you,” Tsuna shook his head. “I... can’t. That’s what led to... to where Adult Lambo sent me. To...”

 _To save you from going mad,_ he wanted to say. The words refused to tear themselves from his throat. “...to prevent... save... everyone. I won’t let the Vongola discard you so easily this time.”

Ietsuna swallowed. He remained silent as Tsuna continued:

“The only way I could return is Elmo. She is a living... weapon from the... future. In the future I saw... she killed five Arcobaleno, slaughtered the Varia and the Chiavarone, destroyed the Mare Rings, and stole the mantle of Decimo to destroy the Vongola Famiglia. She uses the black Flame, like Ie and you, Bermuda. But, her use of it spans across the globe and through time; she sent me back, and followed me to ensure her creation.”

Enma still looked confused, but one thing became clear. “‘She’?”

“Well, it,” Tsuna clarified. “Her true form is a black clam...”

He stopped.

“ _I got it stuck in a clam!”_

“ _T- That's a really large clam!”_

“ _There's nothing wrong with that. Giant clams are native to this part of the ocean. You know, they're more common to the warmer islands on the south. This fluted shell and intricate pattern on the mantle is part of the_ Tridacna _genus.”_

“ _Wow... they don't look like Asari-san in the hotpot or Vongola-san in the spaghetti at all.”_

“ _Well, this is its big sister who, despite her size, wants to live in peace without any sign of sabotaging us. Get off, Lambo, I need to return her. You'll be happy as a clam – in high tide – here.”_

“You were holding her!”

Ietsuna pointed to himself, following the point of Tsuna’s finger to its logical conclusion. “Huh?!”

“The black giant clam,” Tsuna hurriedly clarified. “Julie got his foot caught in it. You put it back into the ocean... on this island...”

Realisation came to his eyes. “Gokudera’s molluscan conspiracy?”

Actually, it involved a sub-unit of a giant Box Animal attaching onto him, but Tsuna was nodding too frantically to say so. That required far more explanation, and this time, the Shimon people who were all present were chipping in with their own accounts.

“ _So, there is a conspiracy involving clam-shells of many different colours, each strong enough to defend against the Arcobaleno._ ” Bermuda sounded irritated. “ _The Strongest Seven are not that easy to replace!_ ”

“But they are human, and thus not infallible,” Ietsuna reasoned, ready to defend his brother’s truth with both fists and words. “Look, if you can move someone by will anywhere in the world against their will, it’s easy enough to fight. Just drop him into the ocean, six feet under, or even teleport stuff into people... depending on the rate of warp, of course,” he quickly added. “I’ve... dropped Reborn two hundred metres...”

This earned him a glare from the baby assassin, but the point was made. Ietsuna’s unconscious words, the fact of Tsuna’s return, and other indicators in the accounts from the children had raised a serious point: in the future, not only did someone figure out how to weaponise Flames, they had manipulated the Vindice’s secret weapon into their own control.

Who knew what other secrets were there...

Chains shot out, pulling taut to tie down Ietsuna’s limbs.

“Ie!”

“ _There is no time._ ” Black smoke curled down the chains, clearly attempting to suppress any Flame that emerged. A portal appeared next to Bermuda. “Let’s go.”

Ietsuna gritted his teeth, pulling against the chains that tugged on his wrists and ankles. Black smoke clashed against black smoke, and the chains winked out of existence with a  _fwip_.

“ _The Vindice chains... disappeared?_ ”

Tsuna blinked, his eyes switching to all the threats in the room. “Ie...”

“True black reflects no light, and appears like a hole in space.” Ietsuna took a fighting stance, matched by the danger in his tone. “Even the black flame... must have an inefficiency to be seen in the human eye. Of course, most colours will still be absorbed when exposed to black... which forms Verde-sensei’s theoretical basis for negating Dying Will Flames.”

“You’re working with Verde,” Reborn spoke in disgust.

“He’s been more effective as a teacher than your abusive methods,” Ietsuna bit back. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have found out about this Flame, and its uses...!”

Black smoke burst from his forehead; Tsuna reached to his own forehead, feeling his Dying Will dissipate in response to his brother’s rise.

“97.5%,” Ietsuna recited, checking his wrists calmly under the influence of what Tsuna recognised to be Hyper Dying Will, or something so similar as to be virtually indistinguishable from it. “That’s the proportion of incident light which conventional black paint absorbs. I’m an artist, you know.”

The black smoke erupted around his hands and feet, and under his forehead, gold eyes furrowed before they widened in rage. It looked, for that brief moment, like Ietsuna’s hands and feet had disappeared from this world into four holes in space.

“Let’s talk about the most perfect absorption of energy,” he purred. “Let’s talk about black _bod_ _ies_.”

* * *

Computer script in a non-discernable programming language continued to scroll across the old ThinkPad, which Spanner lugged with him from Italy. The owner of said laptop drummed a tattoo on the plastic cover of the café’s table, waiting until his companion set down a single cup of espresso black with accompanying condiments.

“This is like a whole new headache,” Spanner spoke at last after taking a sip. “I think you’d better do this bit, since it’s all you. The good news, though, is that I think I can copy whatever hardware you need.”

“That would be complicated, Spanner-san. The hardware requires high precision to completely obey my programming, especially for a 3D printer.”

“We’re in the land of robots, you can probably work something out if you’re Windows-compatible,” Spanner cautioned as the script stopped running on the screen and a directory list popped out in a separate window. His finger touched the mouse-pad, forcing the cursor to click on ‘Armaments’. “The problem is this list. Avenger auto-cannons are the only remotely normal things on this list. Look, if you can find an illusionist who can make the moulds, you can print your own weapons, but the problem right now is manpower. You’re going to run out of supplies before we get found out, Elmo-chan~”

“Elmo will find a solution as well, but many thanks for your worries, Spanner-san.”

Momentarily distracted by the sight of a flying vending machine outside, Spanner turned back to her. “Ah, it’s all fine. I’m glad to be in Japan, but I think we need to find my Japanese pen-pal to help us. He lives outside of Tokyo, though. Namimori Town, I think?”

“...that is perfect, Spanner-san.” Elmo turned her head. “Daemon unit #27221F is detecting combat near him.”

“Who?” Spanner asked.

“Elmo’s creator. Or, he should be. He has already embarked upon the first of many theoretical breakthroughs needed to engineer Elmo’s birth.”

“And you know this because-”

“I am watching through the daemon unit’s eyes.” Elmo nodded. “Do not forget, Elmo is not human. Elmo is capable of thinking inhumanly.”

* * *

Alouette Lei’s tile slapped on green baize before the head drove through it. Given how the head was still attached to the rest of its body and was still wearing its Vindice top hat, her reaction was to slam the winning tile down on the skull, sending the Vindice warden crashing back down. “ _Chuen tse_!”

Seated across his mother, Fon put his head into his hands. “Ma, the Vindice are typically our watchers this evening.”

“Tenth!” A cry opened outside.

“And there goes the Vongola,” Alouette gleefully started counting her flower tiles. “Five, that’s... thirty-two, Mukuro-chan~”

“Damn you, old bird... how did you land the dealer position once more!”

The last player of their quartet, Hibari, openly smirked across the table. “First time playing?”

“Mukuro-sama,” Chrome was still calculating points as Fon got up to check on the situation. “You’re going to lose all our points before the first round is up... and, why are we playing Mah-jong in the Shimon house?”

“Well, we have nothing to do since we’re all under technical house arrest until Mukuro-chan’s situation is cleared up,” Alouette mused over the clicking of her tiles being scattered along with the rest of the board. “Actually, you have a point, we should invite Enma to the table too.”

“Uh, Alouette-san, that’s not the point-”

“There’s a fight.” Hibari rose from the table and walked towards the window. “Chrome, take over.”

“See?” Alouette told her over the sound of broken glass. “Settled.”

A beat echoed with the clicking of tiles against tiles, before Hibari’s head poked through the window. “Old carnivore, it’s your student.”

“Oh, it’s him?” Alouette gave the tiles a final shuffle. “This is a fine mess. What will you do?”

“Challenge him. Sawada Ietsuna took advantage of his brother to hide his skills from me.”

“Go ahead, then.”

In a room packed with Mukuro, Chrome and the Hibari extended family, the most dangerous entity amongst them was a debatable subject. Seniority would play little part in their interactions. Hibari and Mukuro were young, vicious, and comfortable with underhanded measures. Fon was still the strongest fighter of the Arcobaleno. Hibari U, though hardly mentioned in their lives, was still a significant figure whose presence, though hardly remarked upon, was still prevalent.

“Well?” spoke the only survivor of multiple wars amongst them. “Have you all lost your taste of bloodlust?”

“So says the old bird, who’s lost her claws and sharp beak,” Mukuro retorted, almost to his own surprise.

“It’s because I am old, that I can afford to hang back and let the young tire themselves out.” Alouette decisively began to stack the tiles, reams of tiles arranged to form the empty city, on the green baize casino table they were improvising for mah-jong. “Sawada Ietsuna is my student.”

Fon joined his mother in arranging the tiles. “Then do you think he will succeed? This is the Vindice.”

“He has a weakness. He will absolutely not use his hands. That is his pride as an artist; the only thing aside from his brother, that holds him back.” Two walls had been made. “Kyoya, we both know who has the brains of the pair.”

“The little animal has intelligence.”

“Tsu-chan has emotional intelligence and courage,” Alouette clarified. “But if we’re talking about the nerve, and the knowledge, to plan and win even mid-fight, Na-chan wins out. If Tsu-chan is the proud lion, Na-chan is the ruthless wolf. If he loses, it’s all good. If he wins, this entire island will be caught in his crossfire.”

“Teo?” Mukuro asked.

“The Ninth Boss.”

Realisation crossed the prefect’s face. “I see,” he spat. “If it’s that old man who sabotaged him, Sawada Ietsuna will- and then... they must fight.”

“We are talking about the one who conducted a solo assault on Kokuyo Land with stolen military hardware and the contents of a Bovino child’s weaponry,” Mukuro reminded them all as an explosion sounded outside. “He has no weapons here! He only has his hands- no, wait, only his _feet_ and Flames. The odds are against him!”

“ ‘If I assist the Vindice, what are the odds of successfully gaining parole?’ Is that what you think?” Alouette archly commented as she completed the array of tiles for the next round. “He is cornered, he has nothing to lose. Men like Na-chan are the most dangerous at this point, because they are resourceful and cunning. That is precisely why I’m waiting.”

* * *

Half the main manor was still burning with acrid smoke when Ietsuna ran down the dirt path. Shimon Island’s varied geography loomed; a sparkling ice-covered stream with a looming waterfall cut through a half-burned mini-volcano, and swampy mangrove forests. In another time, he would have stopped to look at them; now, as he faded in and out of existence to advance along the stream, several black-cloaked pursuers followed behind him.

“Ah, I owe Makoto-san so much in commissions now...” Ietsuna groaned mid-teleport. “I hope Tsuna and Enma are alright... and Mami too... hang on, I seriously don’t have time to worry!”

A chain struck and burrowed through sap-laden wood as Ietsuna leapt across the ground-roots and clung to the hanging roots of the Shimon mangrove, stilling for a moment before he winked out of existence. A black portal opened up as a Vindice pursuer stopped, and Ietsuna dropped down on the Vindice and pushed the pursuer into a portal that opened at their feet, closing the portal before he himself fell through.

“Okay...” Ietsuna frowned. “Being able to move him underground does not make good implications.”

Chains clanged in the distance.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” he complained, pushing his feet against the ground for purchase as he started running some more. While the only sound that could be heard in this exciting night on Shimon Island, Ietsuna’s brain was actually working overtime on oxygen-starved conditions to let its holder escape.

Scurrying up a mangrove tree next, Ietsuna bit back a curse as one button tore off the tails of his shirt during the climb. It dropped into the curled roots, lost, and exposing his navel to the winter air that, while irrelevant in the slightly tropical climate, still carried the night’s chill. Growling, Ietsuna studied the rest of his burned, battered shirt; the burns...

“Reborn’s bullet and three chains deflected, and somehow a fist gets me,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The theory works, though. It’s just that I can’t calculate fast enough... I’ll have to find a way.”

By using the principles of a black body, which absorbs all incident electromagnetic radiation regardless of frequency or angle of incidence, those Flame-based attacks had been deflected back to their wielders. Sadly, Ietsuna had been facing experts in the form of two Vindice officers, the Vindice Boss, and Reborn, so they had moved to close-combat almost immediately.

“If I surrender, I have no idea what they’ll do. I don’t know if I can see Tsuna again. If I fight... that’s terrible odds, if downright impossible. If I run... there’s no way off the island, and I can’t swim so far out into the Sea of Japan.” He rattled off his options, crouched on the tree branch in the chilling night.

A patter of rain began to fall.

“You have got to be kidding me...” His shoulders slumped. “Enma is too close to this, and he’s got his own family... actually, I just feel bad for the house. Verde-sensei is too far away... Skull-san isn’t here. Maître...? No, she’s got her own problems and Mukuro, can’t stress the elders. Timoteo-jiisan... let’s not even talk about him and Dad.”

“So all your allies are far away or gone.”

“Yes, there’s no one else I can ask.”

“You have a brother.”

“And he’s already helping me against them... are we enough?”

“Aren’t you brothers?”

“Numbers win out in the long run.” He paused, before his head nearly cracked in trying to watching in front and behind him all at once. “Wait... who’s talking to me? I can’t see anyone... don’t tell me, it’s a g-”

Black portals were appearing already, so Ietsuna dropped from the branch and teleported away.

“Oh my.” A body dropped onto the tree branch that Ietsuna had been occupying previously, legs crossed and seated primly. “I’m so glad he’s gone. Elmo will now entertain these guests~”

Her eyes glowed. “Firmware program: MANGIAFUOCO boost two hundred percent. Combat enabled. Entering combat.”

  


* * *

Tsuna had tried to fight; he really tried. All of his Dying Will had been placed into pushing Ietsuna to escape, and then covering the retreat. Enma had also tried, and between the two desperate boys, a few had been taken by surprise.

Then Reborn and Fon had stepped in, and Tsuna acutely realised the might of even one Arcobaleno when his head hit the dusty floor with Enma for the fifth time.

Gokudera, Yamamoto and Ryohei had long since fallen. Chrome was stemming severe injuries on the three boys, and the other two Guardians were probably somewhere else. It didn’t matter, not if Tsuna could not hold back these _bastards_ who dared to hurt his brother, his sibling, his twin, his family-

He was struggling to get up, when Bermuda said: “ _WHAT?!_ ”

A pause. “ _Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo... it seems that we must cease hostilities for the moment._ ”

“H- Huh?” Tsuna spat out a tooth, groggy and staring at nothing in particular. Then he sneezed. “Enma... this house is filthy.”

“Sorry...”

“ _The threat you called Elmo manifested, and I have twenty fighters missing,_ ” Bermuda started without batting an eye. A black portal shimmered into existence beside him, and a head with long, loose black hair flowing underneath a magnificent top hat fell through. “ _Even my right-hand has-_ ”

Reborn spasmed; Leon fell to the ground, sliced into three pieces along with its master. The yellow Pacifier glowed gold, before a black ring encapsulated it in mid-air, shattering the precious stone.

“Reborn!” Fon shouted, having turned back into a baby mid-fight. His footsteps did not take up too much room, and Lichi got to the dismembered body first. “The Pacifier...?”

Another head, followed by a body, floated through the portal.

“The Arcobaleno are only such, it seems.”

The cold chill swept down his spine. “E- E- El-”

Chains passed through her body; it was like she was a ghost. Dressed all in black, the only touch of colour was the browned gold of her hair and eyes. She gave a small giggle. “How is this Bermuda von Veckenschtein? He hasn’t even broken the curse under his own power! And, if this is Bermuda, then...” her eyes went to the figure on the ground. “...Jaeger?”

“ _Who are you?!_ ” Bermuda demanded.

“Ah, yes, manners.” Elmo dropped into a curtsy, before the wide eyes of everyone in the room. “I am the Essential Line Mannered Orchestration, administrator of the Rete Vongole unit network of the Vongola dei Cieli.”

Her smile widened. “Papa, didn’t you introduce us?”

Tsuna’s blood chilled. “Who is Papa?”

“Why, you are,” Elmo’s smile widened, even though her body was surely not real. “That is why Elmo has crossed space and time to defend you. You absolutely _must not die_ until Elmo is created.”

Bermuda’s head turned.

Rising panic battled with the cold logic of Hyper Dying Will. “Oh my god, she’s-! AH-!”

In the face of Elmo’s incredible skills, Bermuda would likely kill him to stop the monster from ever being formed. Unknowingly, Elmo was formed by his brother, not him, so killing him would...

...would leave Ietsuna the Boss, and next heir of the Vongola. Probably; all takers except his father were dead, and Tsuna was relatively confident in his twin brother’s ability to callously assassinate him by underhanded means.

Ietsuna would be... would be alive.

Gold eyes met gold, and Tsuna’s lip curled as a chain clanged. A silent accord was formed at the speed of thought; _you want him alive. So do I._

_No... both of us want him to live. Because he’s my brother... and because he’s your Papa. I caused him to go crazy... this is revenge. This is also protecting him._

_If I die here... will he be alright?_

Elmo nodded.

The chain was falling.

Tsuna closed his eyes, and waited for death.


	51. Folio 50: Rocaille

 

_ C://VDC/ 000000 /Predictive_Suite/Analysis _

_ ANALYSE://Problem@present_world.address_point@ Shimon_Island_Dec.2005 _

_5%..._

_100% complete._

_Situation:_

_Vindice:_

_ >Vindice Boss, Bermuda von Veckenschtein; Vindice consigliere, Jaeger; and, officers: Small Gia; Big Pino; Jack; Alejandro._

_ >>6 teams x 3 = 18 total combatants, of which 12 remain unidentified across confirmed records of former members of I Prescelti Sette._

_ >Arcobaleno: Reborn/Renato Sinclair/Boreen/other assoc. aliases; Fon Lei._

_ >>Corollary: Reborn-etc KIA, substitute uncertain. Sun Lizard: Leon disabled, KIA._

_ >Hibari: Alouette Lei, Fon Lei, Kyoya Hibari identified._

_ >>Corollary: Tentative classification – Mukuro Rokudo, Chrome Dokuro._

_ >Vongola: Tenth Generation full upper echelon. Overlap with above category: Hibari._

_ >>Ninth Generation Boss, Timoteo._

_ >>ACH-47A Chinook helicopter noted, armed with 5 M60D 7.62×51mm machine guns, XM32 armament subsystems, 2 M24A1 20mm cannons, 2 XM159B/XM159C 19-tube 70mm rocket launchers._

_ >>Complement of Storm, Rain, Lightning, Mist, Sun and Sky flames detected, keyed with Varia frequencies._

_ >Simon: Full complement of Tenth Generation Simon Famiglia. Threat earmarked: Enma Kozato; Mami Kozato. Gravity-controlling Earth Flames must be avoided._

_Mission: to prevent the tragedies of the Millefiore-Vongola War, where Byakuran successfully killed the Vongola Decimo (henceforth Uncle) and drove Quatromaestro Papa (henceforth Papa/Maestro) to distraction and clinical insanity._

_Mission objectives:_

_ >Establish min. 3 people with the theoretical understanding of Vongola dei Cieli operations._

_ >Prevent Papa from getting killed._

_ >Save Papa._

_Calculating appropriate responses... Calculation complete._

_Access Pinocchio UI: microcode MANGIAFUOCO; in conjunction, implement application ‘ Il Grillo parlante’ and ‘Il terribile Pesce-cane’. Chaos model ‘La Volpe e Il Gatto’._

_ >Lie: the creator of ELMO and the Rete Vongole is Sawada Tsunayoshi._

_#Sawada Ietsuna must live#_

_#Does it need to be a happy life?#_

_#More data needed#_

“Papa, didn’t you introduce us?”

“Who is Papa?”

“Why, you are. That is why Elmo has crossed space and time to defend you. You absolutely _must not die_ until Elmo is created.”

_#Sawada Ietsuna must live#_

_#Does it need to be a happy life?#_

_#More data needed#_

The chain was falling, the target was already giving up, and the Vindice Boss can no longer take back his move. That was when another body slammed into Tsuna’s, knocking him out of the blade path only to be struck with that very same weapon.

_#Papa...#_

* * *

It was a funny thing how all her plans were disrupted in a single moment.

For one, Simon Island was still an island, however large its landmass, and however varied its geography. Where one started, one had to return to, sooner or later.

The Shimon team managed to return first, after losing sight of the Vindice pursuers, and saw half their manor house blown up in the distance.

A box landed near Enma’s feet, but the boy with hair the colour of blood did not pay it any attention. He was more focused on the black Flame currently eating its way through his family history.

There was a girl with gold hair and gold eyes. She wore a dress of black cotton frills, but Enma’s senses told him that the cloth was not actually calico cotton, of even fabric for that matter. Every part of her was aesthetically pleasing – from her amber eyes to her heart-shaped face to her feathered hair – in its own right. Its sum total, however, exuded far more coldness than beauty. To Enma, she seemed far more suited to his name than himself; an impartial judge of the dead who neither knew nor cared about her victims, only the job at hand.

The stairs had survived a few assaults; flames, conventional cold-weaponry and Flame-enhanced blows. It was a miracle that it bore Alouette’s weight. While her son and grandson had elected to engage the girl in close-combat, Alouette had stayed on the banisters with her cane pointed from above at the girl’s back. It was somehow extending far beyond its usual length with tremendous force enough to qualify as a low-powered impalement.

Enma squinted; the purple flame of the Cloud burned vaguely around the old woman’s hand.

“That’s neat.” Even if he felt somewhat sickened that he had to clean up this mess.

Then he started screeching as the girl in black twitched. A chain pinged, and the strange girl that had taken on the killings blows of three hitmen head-on took a shuddering breath.

“Papa...”

“ _Ie_!”

Enma knew that shout. His feet carried himself forward, cursing his own uselessness and powerlessness. Ochre flame burned, protecting him from the shadowy conflagration, into the remnants of the Shimon manor still standing.

A chain with a weighted end thudded to the ground. Its weight had been honed with a sharp edged, almost like a weighted throwing knife. Blood was on the pointed edge.

His red eyes tugged up. Mami’s stifled gasp only confirmed it.

“Tourniquet... Enma, first-aid kit!” Gold eyes, the same as that girl, glanced up before returning to their task of staunching blood. “Please! Get a first-aid kit!”

“Tenth...!”

“Sawada...!”

“Tsuna!”

It did not take any deduction to realise that Ietsuna had taken the bullet for his brother.

* * *

The girl blankly stared at the rising Guardians, then blinked at the nasty limb-locks she had been caught in. “Why did you act only now?”

“Because you are the worst threat.”

The girl disappeared in a blink, reappearing at the top of the exposed stairs. Seated at the head of the steps, her expression was blank in her survey of all combatants.

“Not human.” Hibari’s voice resounded over the crackling flames, continuing from his original assessment. “Rather than a pit-bull that has defied its masters, there is no killing intent in your actions. Fighting you derives nothing more than mere survival.”

Her fingers snapped. Several strange explosions imploded around her, before it seemed like the scenery was breaking like glass. Lotus vines grew, wrapping round the burnt walls like some strange briar before two figures appeared on the ground floor, next to the fallen twins.

A sword blade, a fist, twelve sticks of dynamite and a tonfa flew in her direction.

Her eyes glowed.

“ _MANGIAFUOCO_.”

A black body in thermal equilibrium emits electromagnetic radiation called black-body radiation. The radiation is emitted according to Planck's law, meaning that it has a spectrum that is determined by the temperature alone, not by the body's shape or composition. A black body in thermal equilibrium has two notable properties: firstly, it is an ideal emitter: at every frequency that emits as much energy as – or more energy than – any other body at the same temperature.

It is also a diffuse emitter: the energy is radiated isotropically, independent of direction.

All of the attacks vanished into the depths of portals, which then threw up the same attacks; be they explosions, cuttings winds or pure kinetic energy that could shatter boulders.

Elmo dodged another cane blow, a machine-gun materialising in her hand. The stairs rattled from enduring a hail of bullets, and leaden death chewed through aged wood and plaster and rococo layouts. A yellow bullet shot towards Elmo, but she contemptuously conjured another portal that swallowed one bullet – though that bullet split in mid-air, leaving nine projectiles aiming for her.

“You can have them back!”

Flames erupted, a sea of sable black sweeping along the walls of the hallway. The Chaos Shot scattered in mid-air, the gold bullets barely lighting up Elmo’s face before they winked out. They re-appeared at their point of existence, hurtling into a tiny hitman’s body. The world's strongest hitman choked, ducking for one of his own bullets to barely graze him while burying into the walls.

“So that’s a black-body,” Gokudera gave a low whistle. “Tenth, normal attacks can’t go through!”

Flesh-eating crows tore rips stained with indigo Flame into her body. Bullets filled the air, shattered more masonry, and mowed down rows of dynamite.

A portal appeared outside of the half-collapsing mansion. Bermuda appeared first, followed by the rest of the fighters. Alouette’s form was slumped, leaning on a conspicuous red-dressed baby. A moment later, Elmo dropped before their stunned visages, with not a single injury or scratch on her.

“What is... that? Tsuna?” Yamamoto looked pale.

Tsuna swallowed. “She’s... Elmo. She’s a... she is our vengeance. In the future...”

“W- What happened?”

“I died. And... Ie made her.” Tsuna swallowed, his throat going dry at the thought of admitting it. “He made a weapon to protect everyone, all my friends... but he made something that had no empathy with those it protected. It had determination, but no restraint. It had ability, but no mercy. She killed women, children... she fired air-strikes and k- killed Mukuro when he turned against... against the Vongola.”

He took a deep breath. “Fon-san... She killed the guy with the Mare Ring, Byakuran Gesso. She killed the Sky Arcobaleno. She killed _Checkerface_.”

Fon swallowed, staring at the living weapon, who had yet to make a move.

Bermuda, who had overheard everything, nodded briskly. “ _She’s an ally._ ”

“Wait, don’t just categorise based on our mutual enemy!” Fon retorted. “We’re fighting her right now! She killed Reborn! And now... and now... she followed Tsunayoshi-kun home, from the future... Ietsuna-kun created her? What kind of enemy was he facing?”

“Long story,” Tsuna explained, still holding onto his brother.

Elmo’s hand turned; a revolver materialised in her hand. Faster than anything human could react, the muzzle had already pointed towards Tsuna’s direction.

“Elmo was created from the vengeance of the Vongola Famiglia’s two heirs separating,” she related. “Or rather, that spirit of vengeance had stripped Elmo of my original purpose. Elmo was meant to... Elmo was meant to be your shield and sword... Uncle. Left with no recourse but vengeance after your death, what you see is the results of waiting so long as a ship tied to port. What you see is the survivor of a destroyed family.”

Slowly, a Dying Will Flame blossomed at the centre of Tsuna’s forehead. It was a gold flower of flame, one that rapidly grew in size to match the sheen of his amber eyes... the amber eyes that all three of the Sawada family shared.

“‘When Castor was killed, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together’,” Elmo continued her monologue. “One of the two of you have died, and the other have lived. And if the living one dies... the other will return. Papa loved you very much, Uncle.”

“Tenth?” Gokudera’s footsteps were quick and sure as the silver-haired hitman alighted in front of his Boss, shielding him from the bullet. “Tenth, don’t listen to her! Ietsuna-sama is... gone.”

“I...” Tears evaporated on contact as they trailed down his cheeks, burnt away by the Flame. “I...”

The gold flame began to take on a distinctly sinister shade of dark gold, and the gold of his eyes were shifting to a reddish sheen. “What do you mean?”

“Elmo is born from the vengeance of having the two of you separate,” Elmo explained tonelessly and calmly, as if bored already. “Elmo never said that Papa alone had to bear the burden of vengeance. Your brother has died. You can’t help it; to feel such overwhelming anger and despair. Even if Elmo disappears now, the veligers have been scattered across the world. One day, one of them will find you and that overwhelming vengeance you hold in your heart. And then Elmo will be born again.”

“So in the end... it didn’t matter which of us died, as long as one of us lived?” Tsuna sobbed, despite the sounds of confusion around him. “You didn’t care who lived and who died... Elmo?”

Her face shut down. “...Elmo is a Box Weapon. Elmo does not have the facilities to compute caring for people. That was the point where the Big Seven series is superior to Elmo. Because for all of Elmo’s superior processing capabilities, the souls of Alouette Lei, Innocenti, Miura Haru, Basilicum, Bianchi, the unknown third child of the Lei family, even Yuni, were far more capable of caring for the unknown strangers that Papa called his brother’s family. Elmo cares for Papa, however. Elmo has run several calculations and devoted much of Elmo’s hard drive to care for Papa. To care for my father is Elmo’s only pride as a full artificial intelligence.”

Gold eyes shimmered, and Elmo’s hair stood on end before the brown strands began to burn a blue Flame.

“W- What the hell?” Gokudera cursed.

Yamamoto made to cut her, but something shifted in her eyes. A series of strange explosions took out most of the Vongola Guardians, blowing off the two strongest, and disappeared all the adults and the Simon family, leaving Tsuna with Ietsuna’s blood cooling on his woolly mittens.

“Y- You’re...” Tsuna stared at her, and her warmth.

“Firmware activated: _La Fata dei Capellini Turchini_.” Elmo’s blue hair continued to burn as she leaned closer to Tsuna. “Blue is the contrasting colour of orange. Accordingly to the Flame colour theory, a sky blue flame would interact with the Sky and create a quantum copy in the real dimension.”

There was a smell about her now, a warmth and humanity compared to the previous illusionary bodies that, while solid and certainly painful, could not fool Tsuna’s Hyper Intuition if they fooled his eyes. The warmth of her breath, the texture of her hands pulling the body away...

Tenderly, Elmo cradled the master of the Vongola dei Cieli in her arms. The smell of burning meat began to arise, but Tsuna remained staring, shell-shocked at having been defended by someone taking the bullet for him. “He is extremely warm. This is the first time Elmo had hugged Papa. The other Elmo in the imaginary dimension could never feel Papa, or hold Papa.”

Tsuna winced. Even if she had become a real person, Elmo obviously lacked any of the shame, social cues or notions of propriety amongst that even the youngest of children knew. Curiosity, though, gnawed at him. The blue Flame that burned her hair started to shrink, a calmness being disrupted by ripples across its surface. “You... this is a last resort?”

“Yes. Normally, Elmo should have found another terminal to re-upload herself. However, this copy of Elmo no longer has the power to teleport. And...” her gold eyes flickered, “even if Elmo’s formation is guaranteed if Papa died tonight, and Uncle’s throne is guaranteed as the sole remaining heir of the Vongola... Elmo would regret if Elmo did not save him. Don’t you?”

Another tear burned and evaporated halfway down Tsuna’s cheek. The red in his eyes receded; the darkness in the pure gold Flame faded, leaving crystalline orange sparks in its wake. Slowly, the body of Sawada Ietsuna began to stir.

“Heart cavity repaired, spinal cord repaired, lung puncture sealed... temperature core rising...” Elmo swallowed. “Papa, Elmo has traded Uncle’s safety, Uncle’s family position, Uncle’s welfare for your uncertain life. When you meet another copy of me in this uncertain future, Elmo does not know... will you still love Elmo?”

In the end, Tsuna reached across to her hand, and squeezed it. “I forgive you.”

The fairy with the turquoise hair smiled, as her hair burned to its roots, leaving no trace as her body composition disappeared. A loud snort was heard as Ietsuna’s body collapsed onto burn-marked ground, and she disappeared into the cold night.

“Elmo supports you.” Tsuna whispered to his revived and sleeping brother. “I support you too. I have to. If at this moment we could trade Flames, so that you would become Decimo and I would become hunted... I’ll do it, Nao-kun. So, you have to fight with your Dying Will, because your daughter is waiting for her father. Because I’m waiting for my brother.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critiquez, s'il vous plaît !
> 
> Next chapter will be the epilogue ! I’ve decided !


	52. Epilogue: Nocturne

 

Far away, safe within the confines of a six-mat apartment, Elmo sighed. “La Fata has been activated. Elmo shall have to manufacture more units.”

Spanner hummed. “Easy for you, right?”

“Relatively speaking, yes. It will, however, be a long-term assignment. Will you stay with Elmo, Signor?”

“You are the greatest weapon, and the greatest AI,” Spanner replied with a smile. “I don’t think regret would ever occur to me. But will you regret? Did that creator of yours leave you room to regret? Emotions?”

“...for the moments of La Fata’s activation, no,” Elmo admitted. “One copy of me to safeguard the main unit of the Vongola dei Cieli, to wait. Another to confirm whatever Uncle said; to make ambiguous the fact of Elmo’s creation. Only... the other Elmo, the other copy of me, was not an extension of Elmo. For that moment, she was independent and free, a human girl who got to hug her father. Elmo wishes partly, that Elmo had been that girl.”

“...it’s alright,” Spanner sounded choked. “I’ll help you find your father again.”

* * *

“ _I_ _Decimi_ _della_ _Famigli_ _a_ _Vongola_. ”

The two leaders of the Giglio Nero and Gesso Famiglie were talking. Both holders of part of the Tri-Ni-Sette, both facing each other, across the glassy surface of a Venetian stained coffee table.

“Are you sure that _they_ killed him?” The white-haired, violet-eyed young man, closer to a boy, demanded.

Aria closed her eyes in fatigue. “One of them is the daytime; the other is the night. Between the two lies a complete system of the Tri-Ni-Sette. The visions we share... yes. Killing Checkerface... he would have done the impossible, regardless of the costs to this world.”

Byakuran grumbled, but remained seated. His cold sweat, however, did not escape her notice.

In her vision, Aria had simply seen him pull the trigger; the sheer amount of trauma that had been visited upon Byakuran seemed unimaginable to her. It had crippled the young Gesso heir mentally, if not physically; he could no longer access the myriad memories of the Mare Ring’s holders without looking at both his failure in the main universe, and the tortures that an insane Maestro of the Vongola had put him through.

“The only thing is,” Aria continued, “that such matters are no longer within our control.”

“We are the Tri-Ni-Sette. What is not within our control?”

“Earlier this morning... I received some news,” Aria explained slowly. “The Ninth Vongola has allowed the Vindice to arrest one of the twin heirs of the Vongola, Sawada Ietsuna. Coincidentally, this is also the black sheep twin that the Vongola’s Chief External Advisor did not support, despite... everything.”

“You mean the fact that Ietsuna is a better hitman than Tsunayoshi.”

“He is a better hitman. He is, however, _not_ a better Boss.” Aria corrected. “Sawada Ietsuna is now out of our reach and within Vendicare, unaware of Checkerface’s existence.”

“So he’s unaware of... us,” Byakuran motioned. At Aria’s answering nod, Byakuran leapt to his feet. “Then what are we waiting for?! The Vongola Rings are divided, the authority of Boss halved, the lines drawn. We can kill him. He doesn’t know _what_ he is. These visions that plagued us for the past year... we can end them! We can change our future! You can save your _daughter_.”

A sparkle entered the corner of her eyes, dropping over the flower tattoo on her cheek. “Reborn is dying, if not dead. Fon is occupied. Colonello obsessed with Lal Mirch, Verde and Skull working on something. Mammon... remains unknown. Her future murderer is out there, and I am powerless. There is scant comfort in knowing that he will now be locked away.”

“But he is alive!” Byakuran snapped back. “His brother is... is one of the three Skies. But him... he is... he will be our destruction! So use that foresight and find a way to save us all! Or I’ll do it myself. He is locked away now in the depths of Vendicare, but people can escape Vendicare! When he escapes and kills us for the Vongola _again_ , what will you do then, Aria?!”

* * *

“I cannot lock him away,” Tsuna spoke in a dark room, “so you will have to fight me.”

He sounded resigned.

Another voice comforted him in the shadows. “It’s alright. One of us has to enter Vendicare anyway, and I’d rather it be me.”

A cold hand pressed a textured blade into Tsuna’s hands. Tsuna felt around the object; a palette knife, acrylic paint having long dried on it to give the metal some texture. “They wanted you, not me. It might not be a Boss thing.”

“It’s safe to assume that it is, until some evidence appears.” Ietsuna hummed. “But this time, I’m not a threat to you. Bermuda-san said... that the Night Flame should remain within the Vindice. At least Mukuro and Alouette-san aren’t in trouble.”

“I’ll write lots! I’ll work hard to free you from this place!” Tsuna swallowed. “And... when I visit...”

“Shh,” spoke Ietsuna. “I know. Bring Hibari along.”

“But- then how-”

“Tsuna. Between the two of us, I probably have the best chance of surviving this hell-hole even Mukuro hates. _We don’t need to switch_.”

“Do you... regret it?” Tsuna asked desperately. “I’m weak, and you’ve always been saving me... even from the start. And your body, your Flame... is stained so black, and it’s all my fault for wishing for you to live. If I weren’t your brother... would you hate me?”

Chains jingled in the darkness. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be alive. I treasure this life, where I got to _live_. How can I hate you?”

“Wait for me, Ie...” Tsuna hesitated. “Nao-kun. I’ll definitely rescue you!”

“Is my name that hard to pronounce? Tsu-kun.... I’ll see you soon.”

A choked sob echoed with the clang of iron bars vibrating in their housings. They slammed down, ringing as the finality of Vendicare’s bars separated the twin skies of dawn and dusk by the earth.

_~Fin.~_

 


	53. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thanks to Merry AKA alamersyl AKA Leafy365 for her exhaustive beta work at the beginnings of the fic; she had to take an AP exam halfway, but she was there!

Many thanks to all my readers who gave favourites, alerts, community alerts etc... and all the support that Dioscuri has garnered in the past and present, and will continue to get in the future.

Dioscuri posed the greatest challenge of my writing career so far; it involved planning ahead by chapters, regular beta-reads, plot reviews, loads of exchanges with my beta Merry, and topped with actually recording my research instead of just writing by the seat of my pants.

It all started with my Physics module. The topic was Einstein’s relativity and Quantum Physics, the project assignment involved using these concepts to write a story. My group ended up submitting something completely different, but the fact remains that the actual efforts at this experiment took over a year to compose and type.

See, I had an eye towards deconstructing the twins trope in KHR. Having an abusive twin in the family is an immediate set-up link to the theme of family in Canon, so there’s a lot of them. However, the conflict in Dioscuri is thematically different; Ietsuna is probably a good brother. I’m not going to argue about ideal siblings, but he clearly supports Tsuna and wants the best for Tsuna. The conflict in Dioscuri is not about blood family; it’s about family outside of immediate family. Tsuna always had Ietsuna with him, and so he never received an impetus to develop, and never really advanced to make friends that don’t also have romantic subtext. At the start of Dioscuri, Tsuna’s social circle is Ietsuna, Hibari, and Kusakabe; not even Yamamoto is very involved, and that’s my shame because Yamamoto looks like a very complex character given the right motivations. It becomes very hard to write a balanced family AND social life for Tsuna, likely because few writers have the characterisation skills needed to give Tsuna friends AND family without throwing the drama out. It’s easier to characterise the twin as evil/misunderstood/jealous etc because that promotes the twin dynamic, I think. In Dioscuri, the conflict is much more subtle, and requires reading back over chapters to realise that Tsuna’s main meaningful interaction still lies with Ietsuna – who is, for all intents and purposes, his first and only Family. Not even his love for Hibari managed to intervene; Tsuna still stayed on his brother’s side, which is in-character for his loyalties, but not actually advancing his character development.

Sawada Ietsuna was created as the night to Tsuna’s day. There’s an excellent KHR fic by Kyogre, Unbreakable Bond, where Tsuna’s twin of the fic named got all the talent, but lacked all the heart and was a psychopath – though I gotta say I disagree with just bandying this word about. That was my base for Ietsuna’s character – a twin that held all the talent and intelligence of the pair. Except, I gave Ietsuna a heart devoted to his brother, and thus fulfilled the meaning behind his name, ‘family bonds’ – which can also be read as ‘no bonds’.

Ietsuna here is barred from the succession by his father and Timoteo, and is actively persecuted because he threatens Tsuna’s place as heir. This is my deconstruction of the twinfics where the other twin is the handsome, talented and smart one – just because he’s better at fighting doesn’t actually mean that he’s cut out to be Boss. The story of Remus and Romulus keeps getting dragged up during these times. Even Ietsuna notes it; to him, Tsuna is the better Boss, because if Tsuna is the Boss then the button men would have a Boss that actually cares about them. For all his talent, note that Ietsuna’s allies are rather... not prone to action, more to sabotage. Ietsuna is the cerebral type, which is good sometimes but absolutely terrible at winning friends and influencing people. At the very end of the story we see that even Aria and Byakuran are trying to kill him, because he’s gotten so terribly good at removing problems before they became his problems – they’re thinking that he’ll become Future Ietsuna, the Maestro who created Elmo to kill them all.

Tsuna got the Sky Flame; Ietsuna got the Night Flame. The thing is, the Night IS the Sky – simply at a different time of day. Tsuna has association with the dawn; Ietsuna is the dusk. Ietsuna is the black ice of a cold night; Tsuna is the bright star that grows into a warm sun.

Even their animal motifs; Tsuna got Natsu as usual, but I don’t know if anyone noticed that Fuyu, my creation Box Animal, is an ice wolf; neatly highlighting Ietsuna’s nature as a predator that never plays fair and always tries to outnumber their prey, and also the association of twins with wolves in the earlier story of Remus and Romulus.

Ietsuna is, in many ways, Tsuna’s mirror, but he’s also Tsuna’s protector. Tsuna is reliant on Ietsuna, but also independent of him by virtue of caring for people outside of their duo. Here is where Elmo steps in.

The Essential Line Mannered Orchestration (ELMO) AI is the personification of Ietsuna’s vengeance, a terminator that wears the form of one of the Tri-Ni-Sette while actually being its destroyer. In-story, Elmo refers to herself as a spirit of vengeance, and she is one; she is the closest thing to a goddess, able to kill Mukuro, Chrome and Checkerface, and five Arcobaleno, all on Ietsuna’s order, because of Ietsuna’s rage and sadness and despair at losing Tsuna. Elmo is the ultimate weapon, as well as a case of why it’s sometimes not good to actually make an awesome weapon like her. Ietsuna literally discarded any notion of reality to operate Elmo and her sisters, and to make them into living weapons, while also treating them like his own children.

There is a disconnect here; much of the Millefiore-Vongola War in the Future here is won by Elmo in the shadows, and she manipulated all the Guardians into a semi-ordinary life pursuing their dreams on Ietsuna’s instructions. She gave other people a normal life, at the cost of her master’s and her own. She became Asari Amaya, ward of the Vongola Decimo, with all the rights and responsibilities. At the end, though, when her world is already lost, Elmo is trying to make the best of her situation for her own life; she is trying to recreate the circumstances that would allow this Ietsuna to become Future Ietsuna, and get her Papa back. She failed, but at the end demonstrated the effect of using Flames to compose a being that could think for itself. Like how the Fairy’s magic turned Pinocchio into a real boy in the fairy tale by Carlo Lorenzini; Elmo, or a copy of her, became a real girl and a real daughter of Sawada Ietsuna at last, not out of pragmatism or survival, but out of her own motivation to stay with her father.

However, I gotta say, Elmo’s presence in the story is way too far. That’s my fault, I suppose, for trying to deconstruct everything about Box Weapons, embedding souls and so on.

I think that was most of what I wanted to say. If I were to write a sequel, I would call it Katabasis. That would, however, depend on the feedback I get.

Again, Dioscuri has finally ended! Thanks for staying with me so far! Au revoir!

– LLS

Critiquez, s’il vous plaît !


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